A Tale of Two Families, Trying to Make it as One
by Morning Dew
Summary: Co-written with Dimples. The Conlon's and the Kelly's were two different families with contrasting views on life. But when Spot loses his job as renowned attorney, can the two families now living together learn to unite as one? Please RR!
1. Morning Rituals

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters from the movie Newsies belong to the authors, but rather to Disney. Big surprise there, right? Dimples and Dewey own themselves. 

A.N: *clears throat* ahem…yea. So…this is Dewey coming at you with a new story…*dodges the rocks thrown at her* No, no! You must understand! I still do intend on finishing "EA" and "Just a Little Bet" Seriously! I do! But this is a story me and my friend had been planning out since last summer and we just had the urge to write it of a sudden! Please don't stone me! *whimpers* Besides, it's co-written, so it won't take up *all* my time. ^_^ And just so you know, I was writing more of "EA", so no worries, ay?

In any case, odd-numbered chapters are written by yours truly. Even-numbered ones by Dimples. ^_^ Enjoy! 

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**_A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One_**

**Chapter One**

            The Newsboys Strike of the late 19th century had ended over two decades ago, the dreams of underdogs at long last seen by those in higher power and steadily becoming a reality. Breaking from the Victorian era, even the most unheard of voices liberated the downtrodden when on August 26, 1920, the Nineteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was ratified, giving women the right to vote. The American people had only begun to change. The Age of Jazz blasted its smooth melodies throughout the 'Roaring Twenties', the victory in the First World War left citizens feeling accomplished and secure, and a cherished new self-image for all genders was embraced with fervent enthusiasm. But what had become of those who had made these successes possible?

            The names of Alma Clayburgh, Woodrow Wilson, Gandhi, Babe Ruth, and Margaret Gorman would ever be etched on the timeline of humanity, but had society forgotten those prideful young who had tamed the stubbornness of a newspaper giant in the summer of 1899? Had the people forgotten the names of Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon, respected leaders of the Manhattan and Brooklyn newsies, two communities who added heavily to the fights against the tycoons Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst? Had the memories of the working boys of New York been reduced to mere dust?

            Perhaps that isn't even the question. Perhaps it shouldn't be asked whether or not those who now enjoyed a new type of freedom remembered the ones who'd fought for it, but rather whether these fighters remembered the freedom _themselves. Had they gone on to revel in their won liberation, or had they become the slaves to a modern society, to the dictates of an adult's life?_

            Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon indeed went on to cast away the stories of their adolescence in exchange for manhood. Only months after the strike, Jack had met the girl who'd become his future bride, a Miss Amy Westhal. They were happily married two years later and moved into New York farmlands where Jack aspired to work as a successful cattle breeder to raise five children. Meanwhile, Spot wouldn't marry until after his twentieth birthday, and it would be to Lillian 'Dewey' Rembrandt, a girl he'd been seeing on and off for four years. After a fairy-tale matrimony, they moved closer to the city where Spot took on a job at a law firm. When he'd finished his legal studies, he became a renowned attorney, and it was only then that he and his wife began raising their six children. 

            But oh how these families were different, how contrary were their views on a life they both took part in. While the Kelly's were a happy bunch to which the words happiness and unity were interchangeable, the Conlon's barely were a family at all. Spot had made a god of his workplace and more often, his children learned to erase him from their lives. Whereas Jack indulged his sons and daughters with his quality time and company, Spot rather showed his love through petty luxuries and presents. Whereas the Kelly's were a closely-knitted group with a foundation upon harmony, the Conlon's were slowly beginning to drift away from one another. Two families. Two different concepts on how to bring together members of the same heritage. Fate would have its fun one day, though, for fastly approached the time when these two families would have to learn how to live as one.  

* * * * * * * 

            Dewey awoke with the sun, for while its golden face peeked over the horizon, she was already washed up and dressed for a new day, and when it had at last made its ascent to the oceanic skies, she was enjoying a cup of decaffeinated coffee before going on to wake her children for school. She loved these moments, in which the mansion Spot had purchased years back was void of sound, when peace was hers for the taking. She enjoyed the solace for a few minutes more until the grandfather's clock in the parlor chimed a melodic announcement that seven o' clock had finally arrived. Dewey finished her coffee, set the mug in the kitchen sink, and tended to her motherly duties. 

            The first child she checked on was her youngest. Her four-year old son, Neeko, had contracted a terrible cold and had remained in an ill condition for quite some time now. She stood aside his bed, watching his chest move up and down at a steady rhythm, listening for any difficulty in his breathing. She didn't have to wait too long. Neeko suddenly cried out in pain and began coughing hoarsely, gasping for air as hot tears ran down his face. 

            Dewey instantly took the boy in her arms as she sat upon the bed, cradling him and whispering his name continuously into his ear, calming him from his earlier alarm while she rocked him back and forth. "Wake up, baby. You were having a bad dream…" She kissed him tenderly on the forehead and smiled in relief as his eyelids at last opened to reveal curious brown irises. 

            "Mama," said the child in a helpless plead, "it hurts when I breathe." He frowned and clung closer to her, believing she could make the pain go away simply because she was his mother. 

            "Oh, Neeko, I know." Seeing him as so brought a tear to her eye, for there was nothing she could do to cure the boy from his ailment. It had been like this for the past three winters as well. Every time late October brought along its chills, the weather would flare up the asthmatic tendencies of Neeko's lungs and make the simple task of breathing laborious. "But don't worry. The doctor is going to get us some more medicine for you, alright?" He only nodded and she laid him back down, covering him with his blankets and quilts, praying his bronchitis would lessen in severity. 

            She passed the rooms of twins Andy and Ruthie on her way down the hall, for they had yet a few minutes before time would become a problem, and entered next the dark quarters of her second eldest son, J.P. Dark because even though the sun's rays were beaming through his window, the room would never forsake its onyx-based shades. A year ago, J.P. had requested to have the walls painted black to 'match the color of his joy' and as was usual among the Conlon children, his wishes were granted. "J.P., darling, get up," she called from the doorway. "It's past seven."

            J.P. only stirred, but didn't make a move as if to rise. Dewey furthered into the room and stood just before him to repeat her words, but when he moaned in pain and hid his face under the blankets cloaking him, she was momentarily concerned. "J.P., are you feeling well?" He mumbled something akin to 'no' and she was prompted to sit onto his bed and ask what bothered him. 

            He threw the blankets off him to more clearly speak and gave her his most miserable look. "Other than the fact that my head is throbbing like a thundering heart pleading to be drained of its misery, my stomach is boiling with furious rage, making me feel quite faint."

            Dewey smiled at his poetic recitation; J.P. never ceased to amaze her with his dramatic speeches. "Well then, I suppose you can stay home and look after your little brother while I go shopping today."

            Sitting up on his elbows, he gaped at her. "How does it follow that because I'm ill, I must undertake my responsibilities as one of the older siblings and baby-sit Neeko? Truly, Mom, you do see the injustice in that."

            "This is the third time this month you've wanted to stay home from school, J.P. I'm not going to entertain your truancy any longer. Now get up and get ready." She stood to her feet and clapped her hands twice. "Come on, let's go. I shouldn't have to wake you up in the mornings. You're fourteen; this is your responsibility now." With crossed arms she watched in amusement as he arose from the bed grumbling and shuffled to his closet. 

            "Mother," said he, "why did you bring me into this mundane existence? Why must I daily attend that institution that wears the guise of 'education'? It's a prison, I tell you." He obtained a clean set of the pants and jacket he was required to wear for his private schooling and headed for the desk where laid his comb. "A damned sinkhole," he added under his breath, hoping she hadn't heard him. 

            "I don't want to hear that kind of language from your mouth, J.P. I thought we went over this already. Watch your language. What would your father think if he heard you?"

            The boy shrugged indifferently. "I honestly can't tell you. I've had longer conversations with the lunch ladies at school than with my own _father." He tried to push past her and head for his personal bathroom, but she wouldn't let him go with such a rude remark. He should've figured as much. _

            "Your father cares very much about you, sweetheart." Her voice was tender now, and J.P. almost regretted having saddened her so. She caressed his cheek with her palm and thought upon how the boy was the only one among his siblings who came closest to having all of Spot's features in appearance and character. J.P. had the blazing sapphire eyes and face structure, but his hair, though having the same texture as his father's, was a dark chestnut brown. "He just gets rather busy at work, you know."

            He would have nothing of _that_. "He showers us with evanescent adoration and trivial gifts and then returns to his beloved world of clients and cases. I decided long ago that I have only one parent, and I don't think it's too complicated for anyone to know without hesitation that one parent is you. You're the only one who cares, Mom. My father might as well be dead and buried." Though it was a solemn statement, he smiled warmly and even did so much as to hug her in gratitude and kiss her on the cheek. 

            "J.P., do you ever wonder why it is we constantly have to be changing you from therapist to therapist?"

            "They haven't the capacity to comprehend the level upon which I speak is all." When she laughed at this, he took advantage of her present mirth and asked her if he could possibly stay home if only to make her laugh all the more. She replied with an order to get ready for school before he was late. "Ugh, mom, do I really have to? Jesus didn't go to school and look how renowned he still is almost 2000 years later!"

            "Get ready," she said once more, just before she left into the hall and closed the door behind her. Downstairs, the oldest in her brood, a sixteen-year old named Ethan, was gazing at himself in a hand-held mirror, checking his face for any flaws for at least five minutes until he was satisfied with the results of the morning's waking and then decided something had to be done about his hair. While he fidgeted with the brunette curls, Dewey greeted him with a rub on the back and continued on into the kitchen where Mrs. Becky, a southern dark-skinned woman with a beautiful personality, was cooking the family a most delicious meal. 

            "Why hello there, Mrs. Conlon," said the woman in her rural accent. "Have a peaceful sleep?"

            "Oh yes, thank you." Ever since Spot had hired a team of servants after his promotion to a higher-paying job, Dewey never had to lift a finger to cook again. As a matter of fact, no one in the family did any type of manual labor. While at school, the children had their rooms fixed from top to bottom by maids and the only chores left to Dewey was that of tending to the personal needs of her sons and daughter. Spot refused to let her know the drudgeries of a housewife, but motherhood still was a role in her life and one she very much enjoyed. 

            Just before eight that morning, Mrs. Becky had finished setting the dining table for breakfast and all the Conlon children, plus their mother, were seated around the meal in wait for Spot's presence. From one end of the table, Dewey reminded the kids of any appointments-doctor or extra-curricular based-which they needed to attend in the afternoon. "Oh, and Andy and Ruthie? I don't want to hear any more complaints from your teacher that she has to chase you both around the playground for thirty minutes when it's time go inside the classroom, understood?" The twins nodded with mischievous smiles, their blue eyes sparkling. 

            Seven minutes later, Spot finally entered the dining room in a new black suit he'd purchased the day before, a large briefcase in one hand as he leaned over the table, seized a bagel, and started on his way to the front door. Dewey was taken aback by the near callous action and quickly stood to her feet to gain the man's attention. "Honey, we're having breakfast together today…Monday?" Only on Monday's and over the weekend's did the Conlon's together have a morning meal, for the rest of the week proved to be brimming with busy schedules no one could quite control. 

            Spot stopped abruptly, cast a glance at the meal and those kids facing him, and grimaced as if presented with two courses of action that to him were equal to one another. "Baby, I'm sorry but they're expecting me at the firm early today. I really wish I could stay, but remember, this is my second promotion since I've been working there and I really think they'll give me a third by the year's end so long as I remain committed." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and promised he'd make it up to her somehow before he rushed out the front door and made his way to the job he so fanatically clung to. 

            Dewey remained standing a moment longer in disbelief. How could he simply walk out on them in such an appalling manner? Was the family's unity of no importance to him? Had his rank as lead attorney at the firm hold more value in his life than did his very children? "Bye daddy!" called out Ruthie, hoping to receive a farewell in return, but Spot was long gone by the time her little voice had rung out. Dewey frowned at her only daughter and then sat back down, feeling all eyes upon her. When she had gathered her bearings, she prayed over the meal, specially requesting safety for Spot on his way to work, and then the family, minus one busy father, began to eat.

* * * * * * *

            That night, Dewey sat in the parlor with her four youngest children, excluding Neeko-who was fast asleep in his room after taking some medicine, when suddenly Ethan returned from his baseball team try-outs and proudly exclaimed that he had gotten placed as pitcher. "I'll have all the girls after me now," he said with a proud grin. "I'll have all the more doll faces to add to the five girlfriends I already have." When his mother gave him a displeasing look, he assured her he was only kidding. 

            J.P. rolled his eyes at the exclamations. Ethan was a ladies man, indeed, but one who wouldn't make anybody forget that fact. He was much too proud for his younger brother's liking and J.P. felt the eldest acted much in the manner of a brat, as if he expected everything to be given him on a silver plate. From upon the couch where he was curled up with his favorite volume of Edgar Allan Poe prose, he decided to insert his own comment. "I'll never understand the affection of women. They pursue you endlessly, Ethan, and yet when you deny them, it only prompts them to chase you further. It's almost similar to Mom and Dad. No matter how hard Mom tries to obtain his attention or get him to sit for a confounded meal with us, all he does is ignore her." He'd made it loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, but when he saw the hurt look on his mother's face, he immediately regretted it. 

            Ethan saw how heartbroken their mother was and shot a glare at J.P. "Shut up, J.P. You think you know everything, but you're nothing but an idiotic freak. Why don't you go cut your wrists with razor blades again?"

            "Go to hell," was J.P.'s simple but malicious retort. 

            Ethan had been retreating after he'd put his brother in his place, but when he heard those three words, he whirled around half in shock and charged for the younger Conlon. Before Dewey could intercede, he yanked J.P. from the couch and slammed the boy against one of the walls in the room. "What the hell is your problem!" he yelled at his brother. "All you do day in and day out is sit on your ass and complain about Dad being at work all the time, how no one pays you any attention, and how life is worthless. For God's sake, shut your mouth and grow up. No one _cares what you think…"_

            "Ethan Isaiah Conlon!" Dewey pulled him away from his brother heatedly and gave him a scolding look only mothers were capable of conveying. "I won't tolerate this any longer…from the both of you! How dare you use such language in front of your younger siblings, in front of your own mother! Not only is it disrespectful, but it also reflects poorly on _me. And we all know for a fact that I never speak such nonsense." _

She was shaking with anger and the two teenaged boys wanted nothing more at that moment than to cower away into their rightful rooms. "I don't know where you hear that language but this will end right now. There'll be no more of this fighting either! You're _brothers_." Pulling them so that they now faced each other, she ordered them to shake hands and apologize for their actions. Ethan muttered something unintelligible under his breath but held out his hand nonetheless. J.P. only glared at him, and when he could take it no longer, the younger of the two shoved his brother away angrily and stormed to the other side of the parlor. "I'm not going to shake hands with that brat," he said simply. 

"Whatever," Ethan said with a shrug. "I'm not the one seeing a therapist twice a week."

J.P. was truly shattered by the retort and ran back to Ethan with means to avenge his pride but Dewey stepped into the middle of them and held the younger Conlon back, though with much difficulty. "Take that back!" J.P. nearly screamed, hot tears welling up in his eyes. If there was anything he hated it was how Ethan very well knew how to crush him; a simple mention of his reoccurring depression and visits with a psychiatrist could scar him for a month. "Take it back!" he yelled again, almost free of his mother's grasp. "Damnit, take it back or I'll kill you!" 

"Sure you will." Ethan only looked at him, and then turned to walk out the room. It was only then that he saw his father standing in the doorway. "Dad…"

J.P. spun around at the sound of the name and gasped when he saw the man, collapsing to the floor shakily and no longer caring that tears were cascading down his face. He was definitely in for it now. If their father had heard as little as a fourth of their conversation, it'd give him the means to be quite upset. "D-Dad…I, I…didn't mean…E-Ethan…" He simply pointed up at his older brother.

Ethan shook his head vehemently. "Ethan nothing," he replied quickly. "Dad, your son here needs another dose of his anti-depressant medicine." Then, when nothing had been said, he hurried out the parlor and left the man's wrath to J.P.

Spot was not filled with this wrath, however, for his mind dwelled elsewhere. "Kids, get on to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow morning." Andy and Ruthie instantly dashed out the room, not needing a second invitation. Only J.P. and Connor remained behind. "Daddy," said eight-year old Connor with wide brown eyes, "You said you were going to get out of work early to come to Parent's Day at my school. My class waited for a long time, but our teacher said we had to move along and let the other parents talk." His lips were plastered into a frown. 

"I'm sorry Connor," Spot said, patting the boy's head and pushing him off to the parlor's exit. "I'll make it up to you some time this week, alright buddy?" Connor nodded, but the frown was yet on his face, and it was obvious to those watching that it'd be there even if Spot promised the boy a toy store's worth of gifts. "J.P., I'll deal with you later. Get on upstairs and wait for me in your room." J.P. was use to snapping back at his father at like times, but there was something different in the man's stern tone that made him want to leave as soon as possible. 

Once the room was cleared of all the children, Dewey looked at Spot, astonished by his actions. "What was all that about? You didn't even bother to scold Ethan or J.P. for what they had said to each other, as if you didn't even care. Spot, what's going on with you? The past few days you've been completely oblivious to your own family!"

"Dewey, please. I don't need this right now." He walked to the couch J.P. had earlier occupied, threw the boy's book of prose across the room, and fell down onto the piece of furniture with an aggravated sigh. 

"Oh, you don't need this right now? Do tell, Spot, what's that suppose to mean? That you don't need your sons and daughter? That you don't need _me? Because it sure seems as if that's how you'd have it. You didn't even go to Parent's Day at Connor's school? You'd promised that to him __weeks ago! You didn't pick up Neeko's medicine during your lunch break like you said you would; the doctor was nice enough to make a house call and bring them here! J.P. failed one of his math tests _again_, Andy and Ruthie got bad marks for discipline on their progress reports, and though you didn't help Ethan practice for baseball at all whenever he asked you, he still made the team. So there's _one _piece of good news."_

Spot ran his fingers through his hair in blatant frustration. "Dewey, will you give me a break?" he snapped. "The last thing I need is a run-down on all the things that make me a miserable father, alright?" It'd come out far more scathing than he'd intended and when she began to walk away with clenched fists, he reached out and grabbed her arm, gently pulling her so that she fell onto his lap. "Baby, I'm sorry. You're right; I've been a real jerk lately…" When she looked closer into his eyes, she saw that they mirrored a pain she'd never seen before. 

She wrapped an arm behind his neck and rubbed his hand soothingly. "Honey, what's the matter?"  

"Dewey, I…" He couldn't possibly answer her. He couldn't possibly tell the woman he loved of the great failure he'd achieved at work. He looked all about him, taking in the grandiose and elegance of the room that was only a pallid reflection of the beauty of the entire mansion and the lands upon which it sat. He looked at some of his children's toys carelessly cast about on the rugs and smiled sadly at them. Lastly, he looked at his wife, at her beauty and splendor in the dress she donned that day. "Dewey…I…I lost my job…" He was too ashamed to face her look, but when she placed a soft finger under his chin and moved his face so that their eyes connected, he was forced to. Surprisingly, there was no scorn in her features. 

"Oh, Spot," she said with only a tone of sadness, "what happened?" Her heart had sunk at the words. Had lost his job? But why? How? Most importantly, what were they going to do now? Her mind instantly flew to concerns for her children. How would they be affected by all this?

"Well, remember that promotion I was telling you about this morning? Apparently, there was only room for one person to receive it, and this scab with more seniority got the job while I was laid off. Can you believe that! After I've been there for so long, they just drop me from the staff!" He pulled her closer and buried his face into her mass of curly hair. "Dewey, I don't know what I'm going to do! There's a pile of bills sitting on the desk in our room, and I don't have the money to pay a cent of them!"

She kissed him softly to alleviate his worries and began to subconsciously stroke his hair. "What about the money in the savings account?"

"I thought I was doing so well, Dewey. I thought I was on top of the world, that nothing could ever strike me down." He sighed and massaged his temples with a hand. "So last week I went out and spent all the money in the bank on expansions to the house. I thought it'd be nice to maybe add a garden in the back with a fountain and benches and a nice little brick pathway…" He shook his head angrily. "The money's all gone…all gone…"

"Baby, what are we going to do?" Her eyes were full of fear. She knew what it was like to live as a ruffian on the streets of Brooklyn, and she knew what it was like to be the wife of one of the city's most acclaimed attorneys. But never had she experienced having all her possessions taken away from her of a sudden as if she were a thief who didn't deserve a single item. "We can't keep this house up without paying the mortgage…it's already late! Plus, there's a whole other list of things we're behind in paying. The last time you checked, none of the law firms in the city were hiring."

"Dewey, maybe it'd be best if you took the kids and went to your mother's house…just so that they won't be in the house when…"

"When what?"

He sighed again and rubbed her hand between the both of his. "There's some security money behind my name, but you can't obtain it unless…it's kind of like a will, baby. And…"

"Michael Conlon! How dare you even think of taking your life merely to benefit your family." She gently took his face in her hands and kissed him again, more deeply this time. "It's not money we need, Spot. It's _you_ the kids want, it's you they love. And the same holds true for me." She laced his fingers with her own and leaned her forehead against his. "Maybe we can just stay at your cousin's house for a few weeks until you get back on track."

"Nah, Lucas is on vacation I think. But I'll write him anyway, see if he's come back sooner than he thought." He was truly touched by her profession of love to him. It put him in awe how his family could care for him so when he'd never mirrored the same care for the past few years. Maybe there was a reason behind him losing his job. 

"What about Jack?" she asked softly.

Spot thought upon the notion. Jack Kelly? He hadn't spoken to his long time best friend in over a decade! The two had gone their separate ways long ago and were obviously content with the paths they'd chosen. If Spot remembered correctly, Jack lived out in the country. They'd shared a Christmas together when Ethan was only three years old. "Do you think he'd mind?"

"Not at all," was her smooth reply. "You two are the best of friends, Spot. He'll definitely help us in our time of need. Plus, he's the only one I can think of with a house big enough to accommodate all of us. I still have his address if you'd like to send him a telegram…"

Spot brought her hand to his lips in thought. Could there be a more detrimental blow to his pride? Could anything be worse than having to admit to his shortcomings and moving in with the one he'd brag to about being the most successful man in New York? _But Jack would understand_, he kept telling himself. _He won't say anything… He nodded, finally believing his musings. "All right, let me write him a letter…"_

* * * * * * * 

Review if you want more! ^_^


	2. A Day at the Kelly's

Disclaimer: None of the characters from the movie Newsies belong to the authors, but rather to Disney. Big surprise there, right? Dimples and Dewey own themselves.  
  
A.N.: Hello once again!! This is Chase and I have been working super hard on this chappie!! Hope you enjoy it!! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! ^_^  
  
A Tale of Two Families.Trying to Make it As One  
  
Chapter Two  
  
The Kelly's lived about ten miles outside of town on a cattle ranch that Jack owned and managed. Medda and the newsies had all known about Jack's dream to live out west, so when he and Amy were married they purchased twenty acres of farmland outside of town for their wedding present. Luckily Jack was also able to be granted a few loans from some local banks, and so he and Amy spent their honeymoon constructing their house with some help from the newsies, and they also purchased some cattle and horses to begin their ranch. After struggling a bit in the beginning, Kelly Cattle Co. was off the ground and doing well. Now they oversaw a successful ranch and also tried to watch over their five children as well.  
  
After about four years of marriage, Jack and Amy decided to start trying to have children. They quickly became pregnant and nine months later had a girl whom they named Felicity. Two years passed, and they celebrated the birth of their first son, Rhett, and then another son, Ty, was born three years after him. For a while Jack and Amy thought that they would not be having any more children until another son, Luke, came along four years later; and finally their second daughter, Adelaide, was born two years after him. Three boys and two girls. Even with the constant fighting, screaming, hitting, and crying Amy and Jack wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Amy groaned and rolled over as the rooster crowed, signaling the start of a new day. She glanced at the small clock by her bedside and frowned. Five thirty seemed to come even earlier these days. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jack's side of the bed vacant and sighed.  
  
"Adelaide must be having nightmares again," she thought out loud to herself as she rose from the bed. She parted the bedroom curtains to give her a beautiful view of the sun peeking over the horizon and smiled as she stood there for a few minutes, watching the sun rise. It was her favorite time of day. She was about to make the bed when a pair of strong arms encircled her waist and a soft voice whispered in her ear, "Morning, sunshine."  
  
"Well, good morning to you too," She didn't even have to look over her shoulder to know that it was Jack. She turned to face her husband and softly kissed him on the lips. They embraced each other for a moment until a small voice came from the doorway.  
  
"Eww, Mommy and Daddy are kissin'!!" They quickly broke apart and smiled at each other as their youngest son, Luke, stood in the doorway with a disgusted look on his face. Amy smiled and walked toward him, all the while grinning at her son.  
  
"What, did you feel left out?" She kissed him on the forehead and tussled his hair as he scowled in response. His disgust was quickly replaced with glee as Jack picked him up and threw him over his shoulder as they followed Amy to the kitchen, all the while giggling as his father threatened to feed him to the chickens. Amy smiled after them as she began to scramble some eggs and make some biscuits for the family's breakfast, and they went outside to feed the horses and chickens. Once she was finished with most of her breakfast, she went back upstairs to wake her children up.  
  
First she went to Felicity and Adelaide's room and found them both sound asleep. She stepped over the pillow and blanket by Adelaide's bed, presumably where Jack had slept the night before, and proceeded to wake up her daughter.  
  
"Adelaide, sweetie, get up. It's time to get up," She said in a soft voice as she pulled the blankets back. Adelaide soon cracked an eye open and smiled in recognition of her mother.  
  
"Mommy!!" She said as she crawled to the foot of her bed and hugged Amy's neck. Amy laughed, kissed her hair, and lifted her out of her bed. She walked across the room to Felicity's bed and grasped her daughter's foot through the blankets.  
  
"Come on Felicity. Get up," She and Adelaide both smiled as Felicity muttered something and turned over as she tucked her feet under her. Amy nodded at Adelaide and put her on her older sister's bed. In a matter of seconds the sound of shrieks filled the air as Adelaide began to tickle Felicity. Satisfied that they would not be going back to sleep Amy ventured across the hall where she began to wake her sons. Luckily Rhett was already awake and had begun to get dressed so Amy went to Ty's bed.  
  
"Okay Ty. You've got to get up. Come on." She smiled at her son who seemed to not even hear her and softly shook him awake. He frowned and turned on his side as Amy sighed. He was the most difficult child to get up in the morning.  
  
"Fine, I'll just get Chance and Max to come in here and get you up," She started for the door but then heard the sound of Ty's feet hit the floor and smiled. Chance and Max, the family's two Labrador retrievers had a reputation of getting the kids up by jumping on their beds and licking their faces until they woke up. Rhett had also taught Chance a trick in order to get back at Ty once. Chance would simply pull the sheets off the bed until eventually the child would come with it. Ty had been through that experience before and from the looks of things it seemed like he was in no mood to do it again. Amy retreated back to the kitchen, realizing that she needed to take the biscuits out of the oven soon before they burnt. She found Adelaide perched on a counter by the flour canister and informed her that breakfast would be ready and that she should get dressed soon.  
  
"But can't I help you?" Adelaide pleaded with her mother as she tried to pucker out her lower lip in protest.  
  
"Tell you what. You can help me set the table and then will you go get dressed?" Amy bargained with her as she removed her daughter from the counter and handed her some napkins and silverware. Adelaide immediately agreed and shook her head as she scurried to the table to fulfill her important duty. Soon the other children began to file in, and Jack and Luke also joined them from outside, having finished their early morning chores. As soon as everyone had served themselves the family sat down and joined hands as they looked expectantly at Luke to pray before their meal. He had already tightly shut his eyes and began to pray.  
  
"Dear God, thank you for this food and this day and thank you for Mommy, Daddy, Felicity, Rhett, Ty, and Adelaide and please keep us healthy and safe and let us have a good day and please don't let it rain because we have recess today at school and please bless our chickens, cows, cattle, horses, and dogs. Amen," He managed to say all in one breath and smiled when he heard six other amen's in approval of his prayer. The family continued their morning ritual of eating together, and the older children shared what was in store for them that day at their school.  
  
"I may get to walk to school with Paul," Felicity dreamily sighed as she thought of her current love interest to which all the males in the household answered with a groan. She laughed at them all and continued to eat her eggs, her smile soon growing contagious throughout the room.  
  
"Well, I have an arithmetic test today," Rhett frowned at the thought of his upcoming exam. He looked up to see the surprised looks his parents were giving him and quickly added, "I studied all last night though, I promise."  
  
All of the Kelly children had been raised with the same belief that a good education was one of the greatest things they could ever have, and so they all took great pride in making good grades. Sometimes they even disciplined themselves to study without Amy or Jack having to tell them to do so.  
  
"Well we have a kickball game today after school," Ty spoke for both him and Luke who both loved the game and occasionally got together with the other children that went to school with them for a game or two on nice afternoons. Adelaide, not wanting to be left out replied to her sister and brothers, "Well I get to help Mommy so I have the best day today."  
  
Her other four siblings laughed, and the family cleared the table after everyone had finished, leaving Amy with some more dirty dishes and napkins to rinse and dry before dinner. She waved goodbye to her children as they left for school, which was about a quarter of a mile from the house, and smiled at Adelaide as she led her to the kitchen to help with her daily chores.  
  
For their first chore of the day, Adelaide would stand on a stool and dry glasses and dishes as Amy handed them to her, making her feel rather important about being trusted with such a big job at the tender age of four. Amy watched her daughter in silent wonder as the little girl would place a dish carefully back where she knew it had come from and smiled to herself, knowing that someday soon she wouldn't have her little shadow to follow her around the house and help her clean and also entertain her. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt the small touch of her daughter's hand on her arm, signaling her back to her present duty.  
  
"I'm sorry sweetie," she said as she scrubbed another dish and handed it to Adelaide, "I was just thinking about how you're growing up so fast. One of these days my little helper will be at school, and I won't have anyone to help me with the dishes."  
  
"But Mommy," Adelaide replied as she took the dish held out to her, "you can just have another baby so you don't get lonely while you're doing chores."  
  
Amy couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's logic. She and Jack had decided not long after Adelaide was born that five children were enough, unless God had some special plans for them that involved a sixth child. She smiled sweetly at her daughter and simply replied, "I think five's enough, don't you Adelaide?"  
  
Adelaide simply shrugged in reply and continued to dry the dishes as she replied, "Maybe I'll have a baby for you."  
  
They finished with the dishes and Adelaide entertained Amy with a story she made up about a tiger and a princess while the latter ironed some clothes and also mopped the kitchen. They were about to begin to make some sandwiches for lunch when a very muddy Jack trudged in. His pants and shirt were soaked with mud, and his face even had some traces of mud on it. He only wore his socks on his feet, and Amy guessed that his boots must have been muddy enough to leave outside. He smiled when he saw Amy and Adelaide's faces and made a move to hug his daughter when she screamed and ran behind Amy. Amy laughed at her daughter and said, "Aww, Adelaide, the mud man just wants to see you."  
  
While she was momentarily distracted by her daughter, Jack had made his way to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. She looked at him and feigned shock and told Adelaide, "It's only Daddy covered in mud."  
  
Adelaide continued to hide behind her mother and replied, "But he's all muddy and icky."  
  
"You're right, he is," Amy told her as she retrieved a rag from the cabinet and ran it under some cool water from the sink before she handed it to Jack. Jack took it and began to wipe off his face when he saw Adelaide peek at him from behind Amy and said, "First I have to get my hug from Adelaide though," and put the rag down and began to chase her around the house, acting like he was tripping over his own feet as Adelaide screamed and ran all around the house.  
  
"Jack, don't get the house too muddy," Amy yelled to him, smiling when she knew he would clean it all up anyway. Finally Jack reappeared with Adelaide screeching in his arms, complaining she was getting all muddy. He hugged her close to him and kissed her head before putting her down and laughed as she informed her mother that she needed a bubble bath because the mud man got her.  
  
"Okay Adelaide, go get undressed and yes, you can have a bubble bath in our bathtub, okay?" Amy smiled as the girl momentarily forgot her dilemma of being muddy and smiled excitedly as she raced up the stairs to get some clean clothes from her room. Amy took the opportunity to clean up her husband's face and softly met his lips with hers.  
  
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" she asked after they kissed, her eyes still closed, but she could still feel his breath on her.  
  
"Mmm, I think we were in the middle of that this morning when Luke walked in. Remember?" Jack told her as he kissed her once more with a little more vigor.  
  
"Okay, just checking. I love you," Amy told him and smiled as he replied the same thing. Suddenly she remembered that she needed to start the bath for Adelaide and led Jack to their bedroom. She began to fill the tub with water while Jack tried to finish getting some mud off of him. Adelaide soon joined them and smiled in recognition of Jack and said, "Now you look like Daddy."  
  
Amy knelt down by the tub and poured some of her coveted bubble bath, creating a slew of bubbles that Adelaide would soon play in. Adelaide got into the tub and giggled as Jack frowned and asked, "Why does Adelaide get a bubble bath? I'm muddier than she is."  
  
"She asked before you did," Amy replied as she smiled at her daughter and began to help her take a bath. She looked up to see Jack pouting and laughed as Adelaide splashed him from her place in the tub.  
  
"There Daddy, all better," Adelaide said as she blew the bubbles around the tub. Jack laughed and knelt down beside Amy as he rolled up his sleeves and helped give his daughter a bath.  
  
"I remember doing this when you were a baby," he told Adelaide and added, "but you were in the sink."  
  
"Nah uh," she replied, to which Amy said, "Yes ma'am, you were."  
  
When they finished giving Adelaide a bath Jack lifted her out of the tub and began to dry her off as the two family dogs, Chance and Max, came in and began to lick the water off of her. She got dressed and informed her mother that she was going to have some lunch.  
  
"Okay, I'll be there in a second," Amy told her as she hung up a towel and cleaned off the tub. She quickly kissed Jack and laughed as he frowned when he saw all the bubbles were gone. She left him to take a shower and joined Adelaide in the kitchen and also found her other children there, preparing their lunches.  
  
"Hello," she said to them as she began to make some lemonade for their lunch. She smiled as Ty helped Adelaide make a ham and cheese sandwich and watched as her children finished making their lunches. She was pleased at how self-reliant they were, which only reminded her that in just a few years' time, they would be all grown up. She was jolted back to reality when she realized they were ready to eat and waiting for her to bring the pitcher to the table. She quickly said a prayer before they ate and looked around the table at her children.  
  
To her left was Felicity, a bright young girl of fifteen who had inherited her dark brown hair and Jack's caring hazel eyes. She was a daddy's girl, and also tried to help Amy around the house when she wasn't dreaming about her newest love interest. Across the table from Felicity was Rhett, who was busy teaching Luke tic tac toe. Rhett, who was now thirteen, had inherited Jack's face and personality, and sometimes Amy even mistook him for his father. She knew how much he aspired to be a man like his father, and sometimes it was hard to remember he was just thirteen years old. Next was Luke, who was trying to beat Rhett at his own game and failing miserably. At six years old, he was the youngest son and loved to explore and make mischief along with messes. He could also be a little bit sensitive and a momma's boy, and his dark brown hair and matching brown eyes contrasted with his brothers, who both resembled their father. By him was Adelaide, barely able to see over the table even though she sat on two dictionaries. At four years old going on twelve, she was the baby of the family and loved to imitate her sister and play with the older children. She was always in a rush to grow up and 'be a big girl' like her sister. She had light brown hair and Amy's dark brown eyes and loved to help around the house, even if her help wasn't needed. To her left was Ty, a ten year old and the very middle child of the family. He was the quiet one of the bunch, and liked to be by himself while his brothers and sisters liked to play games and go on adventures. He, like Rhett, looked like his father with the exception of his dark brown hair he had inherited from his mother.  
  
Amy's thoughts were interrupted once more as Jack pecked her on the cheek and began to make them some lunch. She smiled after him and listened as Adelaide told her siblings about their father being the mud man earlier that day.  
  
"What happened, Dad?" They all asked as he finished making roast beef sandwiches for Amy and himself. He gave Amy her sandwich and sat down as they began to repeat their questions and finally said, "If you'll be quiet for a second I'll tell you."  
  
They immediately quieted, eager for his explanation of the morning's events.  
  
"Y'all know Carrot, the horse I've been trying to train for a few weeks now?" he asked them as he took a bite of his sandwich, to which they all nodded.  
  
"Well he must have gotten spooked by something this morning cause I was going through the normal routine with him, trotting around the arena, when he starts to buck and then he throws me into the mud," Jack told them, receiving a few laughs in the process from his otherwise sympathetic family.  
  
"Daddy, you let Carrot throw you into the mud? He needs a time out," Adelaide concluded as finished her sandwich and smiled at her father. Jack laughed heartily and told her, "if you can find a corner big enough for him to fit in, then I'll think about it."  
  
The rest of the afternoon the children spent their time doing their chores: Felicity mended some clothes, Rhett cleaned the stables, Ty washed the horses, Luke fed the horses and chickens, and Adelaide as usual helped Amy do whatever she had to do, which today was milk the cows and water the plants. Jack rode out along the perimeter of their property and rounded up some stray cattle he found every now and then. By dinner time everyone was tired and looking forward to just sitting around that night. Amy had just set the table for dinner when Jack came in, looking at an envelope in his hands.  
  
"What's that?" she asked as she retrieved seven plates from the cabinet and looked at the letter. Jack shrugged and replied, "Mr. Jackson just rode by and said this came for me. I'll read it later."  
  
By then all of the Kelly children were in the kitchen, asking what Jack was holding. He told them it was just a telegram and that they shouldn't worry about it, and they all seemed to forget about it as Luke and Ty bragged about beating the other team in kickball 9-4. After dinner everyone went about doing their nightly activities and got ready for bed. Felicity, Rhett, and Ty did their homework while Luke and Adelaide played with their toys. Amy cleaned up the kitchen and read a few pages of her book, and Jack told the children a bedtime story in the living room, since it was easier to tell all five than to go to each child and tell them the same story. He and Amy tucked the children into their beds and were getting ready for bed themselves when Jack pulled the telegram out of his pants pocket and began to read it.  
  
"Dear Jack, stop, my family and I have fallen on hard financial times and were wondering if it were possible for us to stay with you all for a few weeks, stop. If this is a problem do not worry, stop. We will manage, stop. Thank you, stop. Spot Conlon and family," Jack read the telegram as he glanced up at Amy who was brushing her hair and smiled at her in the mirror. "What do you think?"  
  
"Well," she began as she put down her brush and removed her robe and began to hang it up, "I think we should help them out. God forbid that if it were us, they would lend us a hand, right?"  
  
She bent down to pick up some clothes that were strewn on the floor and saw the shadows of tiny feet under the doorway and smiled. She motioned to the doorway and loudly said, "Maybe we should ask the kids what they think" as she opened the door to reveal five guilty faces looking back at them. Jack laughed and sighed.  
  
"Okay, family meeting. Get in here," he got up from the bed so that they could sit and took the cup from Ty's hand that had been used to help listen in on their conversation. All of the children gathered on the bed, looking at their parents as if prepared for punishment.  
  
"Alright, obviously y'all want to know what the telegram said, if you haven't heard already," Amy said and read them the telegram. Once she finished she was bombarded with questions like 'Who's Spot Conlon?', 'Why do they want to come here?', and 'When are they coming?' She motioned for them to be quiet as Jack began to answer their questions.  
  
"Spot Conlon is an old friend of mine. Last I heard he was a lawyer and lived in Brooklyn with his family. I don't know how many kids he has now though. Felicity, they spent Christmas here when you were about two and I think your mother just found out she was pregnant with Rhett." The children nodded in understanding and Rhett asked his father, "Dad, if you haven't seen them in so long, why are they writing you to ask for help?"  
  
Jack pondered this for a moment and finally answered his son. "Well Rhett, because they probably need a place to stay and maybe this was the only place they could go." Rhett nodded in understanding.  
  
"This is also your house," Amy added as she looked to each of her children and smiled, "so it's up to you all too, not just your father and I. Will you all be willing to let them come and stay here for awhile?"  
  
She watched her children slowly nod and finally all of them agreed to let the Conlon's come and stay. Jack smiled, nodded in approval, and went to the desk where Amy had set the telegram after she read it to the kids. He copied the address and wrote a telegram back, reading it as he wrote.  
  
"Dear Spot and family, stop. Sure, you all are welcome here, stop. Come whenever you like, stop. We hope to see you soon, The Kelly's" he looked up to see his family nod in approval and stuffed the telegram in an envelope to send the next day. 


	3. I'm Not Going!

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters from the movie Newsies belong to the authors, but rather to Disney. Big surprise there, right? Dimples and Dewey own themselves. 

A.N: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! ^_^ I love you all!

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**_A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One_**

**Chapter Three**

            The day Jack's telegram had been received by Spot Conlon was a bittersweet one indeed. Saddening because Spot and Dewey were shelving away their dreams for the livelihood of their children, because their aspirations for a comfortable life were being taken away, and because it seemed as if moving into the home of another would only further tear apart their already divided family. But there were also some tokens of merriment in the news. For one thing, just the fact that Jack had accepted them into his house without hesitation warmed Dewey's heart, and as much as Spot would hide it, she was quite sure it warmed his heart as well. Also, they were assuming the Kelly's would let them stay for as long as was required, and a duration of this sort was indeed convivial, for Spot didn't exactly know how long it'd take him to find new work. Hopefully, it wouldn't take ridiculously long. He had no intentions to overstay his welcome; one because it wasn't the classy way to go about business, and two because he was much too prideful to do anything of the sort anyhow. 

            In any case, he and Dewey spent the better part of Friday afternoon taking care of domestic affairs. While Spot packed up most of their larger possessions to send to the Kelly's house by carriage ahead of time and tagged off for sale those things they wouldn't be able to take for lack of space, Dewey personally consulted each and every one of their servants and ruefully told them her apologies for having to let them go. Her hardest dialogue passed with Mrs. Becky, for she adored the woman and the prospect of departing from such a kind soul truly broke her heart. 

            "Don't you worry now," Mrs. Becky said, in that rich southern twang. "I'll be just fine, you hear me? Why, with the last money you've given me, m'am, I'll be able to visit my sons out west." 

            However enlivening the statement was supposed to have been, it still pained the young woman to be the one delivering the tragic news. When the mansion was at last void of its worker, she aimlessly strolled into one of the many parlours and nearly cried at the sight. The room had been stripped naked; no grand piano, no towering shelf of books, nothing. Her knees grew weak as she searched in vain for the memories she'd been storing up for years. It was like looking into a beautifully designed mirror, only to realize there was no reflection looking back at her. She didn't even want to begin fathoming how hard her children would take it. 

            Ethan and siblings hadn't come home until dusk, for the eldest had been forced by his parents to take his brothers and sister to the cinema to see a new flick recently released. Of course, he had much rather gone with his newest girlfriend, a Miss Rebecca Winters, then be the ring-leader to an assembly of troublemakers. Much to his surprise, though, the others had been quite civil in their conduct, as if they'd been tranquilized to obey his every word. Even J.P. was being obedient, and _that_ was saying much indeed. 

            Smiling in accomplishment at having taken well his elder brother duties, he knocked on the front door of their house as the others waited in the front yard either playing tag or throwing pebbles at the birds nested in the branches of the yard's tree (this was J.P.'s mischievous doing). He received no answer the first two times, but assumed the servants simply were busy fixing up the sitting room or the kitchen and thus were out of ear-shot, and so he tried again, and then again, but when he'd received no answer even after these efforts, he stepped back onto the cobblestone path leading to the doorstep and looked up at the house. 

For a moment he considered the possibility of having happened unto the wrong house, but no, he hadn't made a mistake in that instance. Had the servants retired early this evening? Had his mother and father gone out to some social ball without leaving behind a spare key? He checked under the doormat, in the pots of the plants lining up the outside window, and even grabbed a chair from the patio upon which he stood to check the gutters above his head for a means by which to enter his house. But he found none. Just as he was about to throw himself against the door and pound onto the structure with clenched fists, it clicked open, Dewey standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile. 

"Hey, sweetheart," she said, combing her fingers through his hair. "How was the movie? Did you enjoy it? What's wrong?" She noticed his pale face and his lack of replies, and was immediately thrust into uneasiness. She looked past him to her other children, counting them up with admirable speed, afraid she wouldn't reach the correct number. But they were all there, and for the moment, her heart was at rest once more. "Ethan," she said more softly, "what's the matter?"

"Mom, why didn't anyone answer the door? Where is everybody? I thought…I thought you and Dad had…left…"

She stared at him in astonishment. For him to have thought such a thing! She pulled him close to her for a tight hug and assured him he'd never know the cruel fate he'd imagined. "Everyone come inside," she said, clearing the door way for the others to enter. "J.P. Leave those birds alone and come inside." The boy acted in the manner of the deaf, for he threw one last stone and cursed under his breath when he'd missed his target. "J.P.!" 

Within minutes, the Conlon children were ushered through their home straight into the family room, where Spot was already seated at a desk laden with papers, scribbling away hastily on a number of documents. The unusual vacancy of the rooms they'd passed while on their way to this final destination had gone unnoticed by all save Neeko, whose large curious brown eyes never missed a thing. At one point, he was about to pose a question to his mother concerning the whereabouts of all their possessions, but when he saw his siblings remain silent, he figured they knew of something which would later be explained to him. Never did he contribute their lack of inquiries to the fact of it being too dark in the halls to see much of anything, or the possibility that the others were too busy dwelling on personal matters internally. 

"Hello, kids," Spot said, without looking up in greeting. He received a number of blank-toned replies distorted with the words "Dad", "Daddy", and one "Father"-the speaker of which was none other than J.P., who refused to call Spot anything else. "How was the motion picture?"

"Oh Daddy!" exclaimed Ruthie as she jumped from her seat and waved her little arms about, not caring to restrain her glee. "It was so good! Me and Andy threw popcorn at the boy in front of us throughout the whole film, and he thought it was J.P. because J.P. kept saying bad words to him, so he went out into the lobby and got a lady from the ticket booth, and the lady asked J.P. to leave but he wouldn't, so then they got the manager man and Ethan said we had to leave early before we got in big trouble, so we went to the ice cream parlour, and Connor bought us all sundaes with the money he'd been saving from his birthday." Satisfied with her reiteration, she resumed her seat beside her twin brother and covered her giggles with two hands. 

Dewey looked to Ethan and J.P., fully expecting explanation for such infantile actions. She'd sent them out for quality time because she had believed her two eldest sons could handle the responsibility, but apparently, she would have to re-evaluate those beliefs. Spot only gave the two a cold glare, the same that always served to make them wish they were perfect angels, and then went back to his work. "Listen," he said a minute later, "your mother and I have something very important we want to discuss with you."

"And we want you to be patient as we explain everything in detail," she added, moving to the front of the room where she stood beside Spot. "We know this might be hard for you all to hear, but we need you to cooperate with us."

"Mommy, what's wrong?" asked a worried Andy. He and Ruthie were holding hands to give each other strength. Were Mommy and Daddy selling their big playhouse in the backyard? Switching their rooms to the third story? Canceling their trip to the toy store this weekend?

Ethan noted the serious tone in his parents' speech and sat on the edge of his seat. "Dad, what's wrong? Did all the servants quit or something? Why aren't they here?"

"They didn't quit, Ethan. We had to lay them off."

"Wha…What? I don't understand. Why would you do that? Were they demanding more money?"

Dewey felt the need to interrupt his questionings. Looking at him with a peaceful sadness, she shook her head in reply and laid a hand on Spot's shoulder. "Ethan, sweety, your father lost his job earlier this week." Utter silence engulfed the room. She then diverted her eyes to the other children. "We can no longer afford to live in excess as we've been doing for so long. We need to come back on our budget, and some sacrifices will have to be made."

Connor was entranced by the words as he looked up at her, perplexity striking his features. He was only eight years old, but even from his childish mindset was he able to deduce that something was terribly wrong. "What kind of sacrifices?" 

Spot took over from here. He wasn't going to subject Dewey to the bitter opposition that would rise against them after the news was delivered to the children. It had been his miscalculations as a worker that had lost him the job, and though he knew his wife would stand by him through thick and thin, he didn't want the kids to think they'd been deprived of _both_ their parental sources as opposed to just one. "Ethan, J.P., Connor, Andy, Ruthie, Neeko. Your mother and I understand that you've all come to love the city; that you've grown close to your friends, schools, and teachers. We know that Brooklyn has become like a world to you."

"To _most of us," J.P. corrected in a blank tone. _

"Well then, J.P. You'd be happy to hear that you have the opportunity to start all over again. You see, kids, we can't stay in this house any longer and at the moment, we haven't the financial backing to seek out smaller places in the city. And so a good friend of mine and your mother's has offered us boarding in his own house. He lives out in the country; a great place. We'll be moving there early next week."

The tension in the room finally snapped. Replies tried to be made, but voices choked on the words. Others relied on simply staring off with widened eyes and gaping mouths. The younger ones harbored tear-filled eyes, shaking their heads in denial. 

Neeko was the first to speak up. "Daddy, does this mean I can have a puppy now?"

* * * * * * * 

            "I'm NOT going!" Ethan had declared the exclamation in so vehement a tone that one would think he'd been asked to give away all his possessions and renounce his livelihood. But the sixteen-year old was merely determined to put on a melodrama on the front steps of the house for all the neighborhood to behold. "I don't want to live on a stupid farm! I don't want to leave the city! My whole life is here; my friends…and what about Rebecca?" "And what about the baseball team, mom! I just got pitcher. Pitcher! I can't leave!"

            But his mother was too busy labeling the boxes stacked in the front yard with the names of their rightful owner and the contents which they contained. It didn't help that Andy and Ruthie had been playing one last game of chase with their friends, only to now be sobbing with these same friends when the prospect of their moving to another district altogether became a reality. 

            "Mommy, do we _have_ to go?" they had asked continuously. And though the young woman had tried to explain to them that they simply couldn't afford to live in the city anymore, their naivety just couldn't quite make the connections. After all, couldn't they simply get a loan? Or couldn't Uncle Lucas help them out? In the end, Dewey had answered their questions by telling them to pack up the rest of their toys before lunch came and with a sigh thought that understanding would only come to them through growing up.

            Ethan was feeling as if no attention was being paid to him. "Mom!" he called out yet again. "I'm not going! Why can't I just live with Philip's family until you all come back? I'm in the middle of high school; you'd ruin my life if you took me to the country _now_. I'm not going!"

            "Why do you have to have a complaint for every single thing, Ethan? Do you see your little brothers and sister? Not one is complaining as much as you are, and just like you they're leaving behind friends and memories. As the eldest, and the more mature, you should be setting an example, not shouting at the top of yours lungs so that everyone on the block can hear!"

            "Let them hear me, I don't care!"

            "But I do," she said to him sternly, those motherly eyes firm as they rested onto him. "I won't be the laughing stock of this community, Ethan. And I won't have anyone thinking I've raised uncontrollable circus animals for children. Life's full of highs and lows, and right now we're at our lowest and there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, I'd love to be able to keep you at your school, Ethan, so that you can go on playing baseball and socializing with your friends and girlfriend, but that's beyond my control now. I know it hurts, but it's definitely not a time to be laying blame on anyone as you so carelessly do. Now I advise you to finish up the last of your packing and say all your goodbye's before we set off for the Kelly's." She looked at him one last time, and then continued with her own work.

            Spot was nearing the house then, Neeko holding his hand as they crossed a street and then walked onto the front yard of their residence. In his free hand, Spot held a brown paper bag into which was packed bronchitis medication for his youngest son and also anti-depressant drugs for J.P. It would be their last prescription from the city doctor, and so their father had purchased them enough to last 2-3 months, though he doubted they'd be staying in the country for so long. At the most, Spot expected to only need to take Jack up on his offer for a maximum of two _weeks_. 

            "Mommy! Guess what! Daddy said I can have a puppy when we move into the country!" Neeko came tottering to the young woman, stopping only once to let out a hoarse cough onto his hand-as he yet had trouble breathing normally, before resuming his run and throwing his hands around his mother's legs in greeting. She hugged him back affectionately, and after talking to him for a few minutes, she sent him into the house to pack. 

            When the front door closed behind him, Dewey gave Spot an unreadable expression. "You're starting to promise them things already?"

            "It's just a puppy," said he in reply, "and I hardly think he'll remember he asked for it once we get settled over there."

            "Spot, that's not the point! What happens when he _does_ remember? What then! You can't keep making promises you don't intend on keeping. For all their lives, that's all you've been doing; filling them with promises and then breaking them down when something comes up. The younger ones will forgive you endlessly, but Ethan and J.P. are starting to see it for what it is, Spot."

            He threw up his hands, fully annoyed. "And what do you want me to do, Dewey?" he hissed at her. "What am I supposed to say whenever Ruthie asks me for a new dollhouse, or when Connor wants a new microscope kit?"

            "They'd respect you more if you're just honest!" She put down the box she was currently labeling and looked at him with saddened eyes. In him she tried to find the man she had married nearly two decades ago. In him she tried to find the passionate husband and father she'd once known. But it seemed as if the ashy residue of the individual she sought was the only thing left behind. "I have work to do," she said at last, for the moment giving up on her attempts to have Spot see it from her side of the family war. "Lunch will be ready at noon."

* * * * * * * 

            "This is not fair!" Andy cried out, as he dragged his last box of toys to the living room, where several other pieces of luggage and packed items were steadily being accumulated. His cheeks were pouted as he spoke, angry blue eyes sparking like embers. "Why can I only take _some_ of my toys, not all of them?"

            Ruthie sat onto the arm of a couch, crying quiet tears as she watched her twin brother protest. Her father had told her earlier that morning that she could only take a few dolls of the vast collection she had built up for the past two years. She'd already given half the collection-which added up to twenty dolls-to charity, and now she looked over the remaining twenty to finalize which ones would join her in the country. "I don't like moving! I can't decide between Isabelle or Charlotte…and what about Susie, Jennifer, and Tanya?"

            "And what about my toy ship, and army figurines, and…and the pirate clubhouse in the backyard!" He sniffled, wiping already dried tears from his face. 

            "You guys are crying over nothing." It was Ethan who spoke as he angrily flipped through the pages of a book forgotten on the floor. He assumed it had fallen out a box from the library, and so he simply tossed it into his own luggage. With hands in his pockets, he turned to address his siblings. All were present in the same room, mourning their having to move in their own ways. Connor cradled his pet grasshopper in his hand, telling it he'd have to leave it behind. Neeko was lying on the floor flat on his stomach, his face propped up onto two little hands as he watched and wondered why it was the older ones were so upset. The twins cried over their toys, and J.P. sat onto a richly upholstered chair apart from the others in a far corner as he read more of his classical gothic literature with a light smirk. 

            "I had to break up with Rebecca today," Ethan went on, his eyes narrowed in a perfect conveyance of his anger. "I had to tell Coach Williams that I was dropping out of the baseball team; if we ever move back to the city he probably won't ever put me back on the team as pitcher again. My whole life is completely falling to ruins right before my eyes!"

            "Why can't we move into an apartment?" Connor asked with a pure sadness. "I was just starting to make friends at my school. I'm going to be all alone when I start this new school."

            "Well you can just make new friends, Connor," Neeko replied, in a diction that, though childish, yet pronounced each word in perfect enunciation. For a four year old, he was actually rather intelligent, and it wasn't an unknown fact that his reading level was already at first-grade status. "Mommy and Daddy said we don't have enough money for an apartment."

            Ethan scoffed. "Well _Mommy_ and _Daddy should've thought of that before they went on a spending rendezvous and decided to have a 14-room mansion when there were only eight of us to worry about. And like Dad cares that he's messing up all of our lives! All he's concerned about is his stupid little job at the law firm. God, I feel like a stranger to him…"_

            "Doesn't he love us anymore?" Ruthie shed fresh tears as she hugged a doll close to her, her chest heaving up and down in panicked breaths. "Why do you feel like a stranger, Ethan? Doesn't he love us?"

            The others fell to silence, neither knowing what to say. J.P. shut his book, still smirking, rose to his feet, and sauntered to the center of the room. So they felt depressed, did they? How infantile they all were. So they felt like outcasts to their own father, did they? It was about time they opened their long-sealed eyes. 

"Every last one of you sounds like a whining baby," he spat at them with eyes that looked as if they were brewing a storm. "So what if we have to move in with horses and cows? Get the hell over it already and grow up. It's not like Mom can do anything. We have no money whatsoever; what part of that do you not understand? And so what if you're leaving behind your friends? _Boo-hoo, cry me a river_. If you think you'll feel so alone, deal with it. If you feel like Dad couldn't even give an accurate description of you should you one day run away because he's only looked at you for 1/8 of your life, grow up and stop reciting your sob stories. 

"Congratulations on obtaining a depressive state of mind," he went on. "Now you all know how I feel like every damned day of my life." With one last glare, he threw the book he had been reading into a box that had yet to be sealed, and casually walked up the stairs, his feet slamming onto each step with controlled anger. 

* * * * * * * 

               The Conlon's loaded two carriages after lunch. One would be used for transporting the family, the other for transporting their luggage. The following morning they would start off for the Kelly residence, and it would prove to be quite the long ride. It'd start with plenty of arguing, and would decrescendo into bitter grudges and sidelong glances of hatred. There would almost be a fist-fight between Ethan and J.P., but fortunately Spot would intercede before it became too serious. For the remainder of the journey, they'd retreat into their own thoughts. In some cases, thoughts of hope for the future, of finding something that'd make them happy in the country. But more than anything, the majority of the Conlon children would harbor thoughts of animosity and rage. 

               Spot, Dewey, and their six children sat in the horse-drawn carriage alongside the road, everyone beholding for one last time the titanic house that had sheltered them for so many years, that had been the birthplace of all their memories and dreams. Andy and Ruthie sighed as they stared at the huge tree in the front yard where they'd many times push each other on the tire swing. Connor's eyes were glued onto the small burrow adjacent to the house's patio, where he knew a grey rabbit resided. Unbeknownst to the others, the rabbit had been his secret pet, and the leftovers no one could quite fine the afternoons following a big dinner always had gone to the small animal. 

               Neeko was only four and so hadn't too many memories to revel in as he beheld the house, but he knew for a fact that he was going to miss the hammock in the backyard where he'd many times laid in his mother's arms as she read to him of knights and princesses. Ethan watched on with hot tears in his eyes as he focused on the patio swing where he and Rebecca had first kissed. He promised the girl he would write to her three times a week, or even more often than that. It broke his heart having to leave her behind. His relationship with her had been different than the ones he had shared with other girls. 

               J.P. rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness in the others' behaviors. When he looked at the house, all he saw was a structure of bricks and wood. "Can we go already?" he asked with a groan. "At this rate, it'll take us a week to get there."

               "J.P.'s right. We better get a move on, kids. Soon it'll be dusk." Spot picked up the horse reins and urged the beasts on with a light smack against their backs. Ethan and J.P. sat on the second carriage, and when their father had begun to start off for their new home, the eldest son reluctantly followed suit by beckoning his own pair of horses (which they'd borrowed from a friend with vast acreage and a stable upstate) to begin their trot to the country. 

               "Don't worry, Ethan," said J.P. while opening a book to read. "Rebecca will think about you for a week or two before she finds someone else to warm her bed." He smirked devilishly and acted as if he hadn't noticed Ethan's death glare. It was going to be a long ride indeed. 

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Please Review!


	4. And a New Life Begins

DISCLAIMER: Spot Conlon and Jack Kelly don't belong to us!

A.N: HEY! I know it's been a long time, lol, but I've been majorly busy with school and such. Guess what, though! I'm finally done with high school for the rest of my life, and all of grade school for that matter! W00t w00t! And even better, I got my first job at Sea World the other day, lol…as did several of my friends! So it'll be one heck of a summer!

As for this story, we're missing the first….mmm, page or so of it because Dimples wrote it to me in a letter and I can't find it! Ahhhh! This is, by the way, her chapter, lol. At the time she had no computer access and so I was in charge of uploading it. . But once we find this  excerpt that has gone into the kingdom of the Lost, we shall add it to the story!!! Thanks to all who are reviewing!!!! YOU GUYS ROCK! 

**_A Tale of Two Familes, Trying to Make it as One_**

            "Where are your servants?" Connor asked, confused, as the Kelly children began to help unload the carriages. Ty glanced at him in disbelief and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"We don't have any," he replied, and motioned for the boy to help him move a bag of luggage. Connor didn't seem to notice as he was still revolted at the thought of not having someone to make his bed or clean up after him. He turned back to Ty and asked, "You mean they're not here now? Like they're on vacation?"

Rhett, seeing that the boy still did not understand, chose to intervene. "We don't need any servants. We have a few cowhands that help my dad with the animals, but we don't have any cooks or maids." 

Connor rocked back on his heels in puzzlement and silently walked to where J.P. was standing and scowling for no apparent reason like usual. He relayed the information he had just learned to his older brother who simply smirked and told him to live with it, or in this case, without it. 

Ethan splashed his face with water in the kitchen. He had never done this much work in his life, and he had been here for ten minutes! He hoped his father had already lined up some interviews so they wouldn't have to stay long. He already missed Brooklyn, the smells, the noises, the girls. He sighed and walked out to where everyone was gathered outside. He ducked to the back and looked over at the Kelly's. They actually seemed nice, he had to admit. But he was still disgusted with the thought that these people raised animals for a living. His thoughts were interrupted as his father jabbed him in the ribs and looked at him expectantly. He looked at his father in shock.

"Say your name," J.P., who stood right next to him, whispered in his ear.

"Ethan," he automatically responded and looked his father. He rubbed his side and scowled as his mother looked at him expectantly. "What?"

"Tell them something about yourself," she whispered to him as she motioned to the Kelly's.

"I. . .um, play baseball," he said, hopeful that that would be acceptable and they would find another victim. J.P. was next, and knowing that if he was the hellion to the Kelly's that he was to his family, he would find himself in much deeper trouble than he could imagine. It was one thing to be rude to your family; it was another to be impolite to strangers.

"Hello, I am J.P.," he said in his most pleasant voice, which caused his siblings to turn and gape at him. He simply smirked back at them in satisfaction.

"What do you like to do?" A small innocent voice inquired of him. J.P. turned and saw the speaker looked like the youngest of the Kelly boys. Oh, what was his name? Lou, Larry, something like that.

"I like to read novels. Dark ones. Brutal murders, suicides, things like that. Ever heard of Edgar Allan Poe?" He smiled at the boy's confusion and shrugged at the disapproving look his mother was giving him.

"No, could you read some of it to me sometime?"

Amy chose to intervene and gently tapped her son on the shoulder. "Maybe when you're older, Luke." 

Luke nodded and smiled at J.P. as the latter stood there shocked. No arguments? No pleadings? Just a simple nod in acceptance of his mother's decree? He shook his head in disapproval. He needed to reform the boy. Soon.

The rest of the Conlon children introduced themselves and the Kelly's followed suit. The children were being civilized to each other, which was a definite plus. After a briefing of the household rules by Jack and Amy, the Conlon's were shown around the Kelly estate. All of the Conlon children were shocked to find that the Kelly children shared rooms with each other, especially since it seemed that the house was big enough for each child to have a room of their own. 

"So where do we sleep?" Ethan asked as he gestured to his brothers and sister. He had seen one spare bedroom on the second floor and presumed that there was an official guest bedroom downstairs, which he assumed was where his parents would stay. Still, one bedroom was a very tight squeeze for six children. Jack looked at Amy, who nodded at him to take the initiative to answer Ethan's question. 

"Well, see, we weren't exactly sure how many of you there were, so this is just a plan that we came up with a short while ago. Ruthie, isn't it? You can stay with Felicity and Adelaide in their room. We have a spare cot you can sleep on or if one of the girls is willing, you can share a bed."

Ruthie smiled at the chance to be sharing a room with girls for once. She and her mother were the only females of the Conlon household so it was a very special opportunity for her to be able to room with other girls. She grinned at the two Kelly girls and hugged her doll close to her small chest as she walked over to them. Seeing the little girl's glee, Jack smiled and continued reading the list of room assignments aloud. 

"Ethan, J.P., Connor, and Rhett, you all can stay in the boy's room right now. There's already a bunk in there and we'll try to take the single bed out and replace it with another bunk bed tomorrow," he informed them and watched as they slowly accepted that the four of them would be sharing a room. 

"We have another extra cot someone can use for tonight," he added as they seemed to calculate in their minds that there was only room for three of them for the night. They seemed to nod in understanding as Rhett volunteered to take the cot. Jack turned to the youngest children of the two families and told them that they would be staying in the upstairs guest room.

"So that means that Ty, Luke, Andy, and Neeko will be sharing a room. We can put a lot of blankets and sheets down for tonight and tomorrow we'll see about getting you all some cots or even a bunk. Sound good?" He asked them, to which they all nodded. 

"Sir?" A soft voice called his attention to the smallest boy of the Conlon crew. The boy coughed and covered his mouth as he wheezed. Jack knelt down and rubbed his back as he inquired as to what was wrong.

"Is there a lamp I can use as a nightlight? Sometimes I get scared of the dark," he whispered to Jack and tightened his grip on the teddy bear he constantly carried around as he meekly looked at the ground. 

"I bet we can find one," Jack replied as he smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair. No sooner had he risen up when the young boy began to wheeze and have another fit of coughing. Jack smiled sadly at the boy and made a mental note to ask Spot about the boy's recurring bouts of coughing. He left the children to organize their rooms and sleeping arrangements as he made his way to help Amy with dinner.

"So how is everyone?" Amy asked as she stirred the spaghetti noodles in the pot of boiling water and glanced up at her husband.

"About as well as I could imagine, given the situation," he told her as he kissed her cheek and retrieved some tomatoes to slice for a sauce for their meal. They made small talk as they continued to prepare the meal and set the table. It had been decided that the adults and older children (Felicity, Rhett, Ethan, and J.P.) would eat in the dining room while the younger children and one unlucky adult would be seated at the dinette set adjacent to the kitchen. It had crossed their minds that they could separate by families and let the Conlon's have the dining room or dinette set by themselves, but it was quickly disregarded as a way to deter the families from interacting, especially since they had no idea how long the present situation would last. Spot and Dewey entered the kitchen as Amy finished with the pasta.

"It smells wonderful," Dewey complimented Amy as she leaned over the counter to glance at the meal.

"Thank you, I hope spaghetti is alright with everyone," Amy replied as she drained the water from the pot. 

"Oh it's fine. We actually haven't had it in awhile," Dewey said as she retrieved some glasses from the cupboard. "I'm sorry I didn't help with dinner tonight. We unpacked and then I went to help the kids with unpacking."

"That's okay. There really wasn't much to do anyway," Amy told her as the children began to walk in. She was pleased that the children were getting along for the moment. She glanced up just in time to see Ethan and J.P. seat themselves at the dinette set, waiting to be served. 

"Umm, boys…in this house you serve yourselves. Okay?" She was uncomfortable correcting someone else's children and whispered a silent apology as the boys filled their plates. 

"Also, Ethan, J.P., Rhett, and Felicity, you all are sitting with the adults in the dining room," she added and looked down to see Adelaide tugging on her apron.

"Mommy, why don't we get to eat dinner with you and Daddy?" The child asked, carefully trying to balance her own plate and select a glass for herself at the same time. Amy, seeing a mess in the near future, grabbed a cup for her, filled it with milk, and gave it to her daughter.

"Well, an adult will sit with you all tonight. We'll rotate so Daddy or I will sit with you every other night," she answered her daughter and sent her on her way to sit at the dinette set. No sooner had Amy filled a plate for herself and was about to retrieve a cup for dinner when Adelaide reappeared in the kitchen, an indignant look on her face. 

"Mommy!! Andy took my seat!!" She informed her mother, her hands on her hips, a frown evident on her face. Andy was next to enter the kitchen, a perplexed look on his face as he attempted to explain to his mother that he had no idea what he had done. Amy solved the problem immediately by convincing Adelaide to let Andy sit in her seat and the former could sit in another seat for the night. The conclusion seemed to work for the moment and both families prepared for the blessing. Adelaide insisted that she say the prayer, and so all of the Kelly's and Conlon's bowed their heads as she began.

"Dear God, thank you for this day and thank you for the Conlon's coming to stay with us. Please watch over us and bless Mommy, Daddy, Luke, Ty, Felicity, and Rhett and also Mr. Conlon and Mrs. Conlon and Ethan, I think that's his name, and Ruthie, J.P., Neeko, Andy, and the other one, umm Connor, that's it. Please keep us all healthy and safe. Amen," She finished and heard several amen's in approval. Spot had volunteered to sit with the younger children, and so the two families' first dinner seemed to be quite peaceful, hopefully a premonition of what was to come. 

The younger children, fascinated with the strands of noodles that seemed to be infinite in length laughed as they twirled the food around their forks. Spot found that sitting with the younger children wasn't half bad, for the Kelly children were quite sociable and asked him many questions about life back in Brooklyn. Andy was eating the spaghetti so rapidly that a drop of his sauce landed on Ty's arm. Ty, noticing the red speck on his arm, glanced up at Andy who seemed to be too entranced with spinning the spaghetti on his fork to notice. He cleared his throat and nudged the boy's leg under the table, but Andy simply continued to eat his dinner. Frustrated with the boy, Ty took matters into his own hands and picked up a strand of spaghetti. He flung it across the table at the younger boy and smiled in satisfaction as it landed right on Andy's hand that held his fork. 

"Hey!" Andy exclaimed in offense as he removed the noodle from his hand. "Who did that?"

Ty cast his eyes downward and grinned at the thought that he had gotten away with his criminal act. He looked up just in time to see Andy load a meatball onto his fork in order to retaliate. He raised his hands in defense, but Andy's aim was poor and so instead of hitting Ty, Adelaide was the victim of the meatball shot. She screeched as the meatball hit her in the chest and fell to the ground. Spot, who was in the kitchen refilling his glass, walked into the makings of what could be a terrible food fight and looked to see that Ruthie seemed to be the only one not trying to hit another child with a piece of food. All of the others seemed so excited at the prospect of making a mess and shrieking in pleasure that they hardly noticed his presence until he decided to step in and stop all of the chaos. 

"Alright, quit throwing food," he ordered, his temper already starting to flare up. He took all of the utensils from the children's hands and was in the process of taking their plates away when Jack and Dewey entered the kitchen, their hands full from clearing the dining room table. 

"What happened?" Dewey asked as she placed the plates in the sink and looked at her children's faces. Each one seemed to have some type of spaghetti sauce smear on their cheeks and guilty looks on their faces. 

"He started it," Ty and Andy said at the same time, each motioning to the other. They glared at each other and crossed their arms over their chests, neither looking like they would admit to being the culprit. Spot chose to step in and answer for the otherwise silent charges.

"It looks to me like they had the makings of a food fight going," he told Jack and Dewey, his voice stern. "They're all guilty because they didn't stop it."

"It's okay Spot," Jack replied and looked at the children, trying to keep the situation under control without losing his temper. One of them getting angry was bad, but both of them would be a nightmare. "Let's just clean all of them up. Y'all had your fun. Now you have to clean up."

Spot stood there in silent awe of Jack. The old Jack would have yelled at them and demanded an answer as to who started it. Now he just seemed to let things go. He was jolted back to present by Dewey who asked him to help pick up the last of the food strewn on the table. After dinner, the two families split up to do some miscellaneous jobs. Dewey offered to clean the dishes and enlisted Spot to help her dry them while Amy set up the cots and made some makeshift beds for the boys.

"Even though you all are not exactly used to these living conditions, I will remind you that this is not the Waldorf so feel free to help out anytime," she commented when she noticed that the boys just seemed to stand there as she made their beds and made no move to help her set up the cots. The boys, a bit taken aback by her comment, slowly began to help out, and in the process, Amy taught all of the Conlon boys how to make their own beds. 

It was about eight o'clock when the Kelly children began to take showers and get ready for bed. The Conlon's were puzzled as each child seemed to obey without complaint and prepared to go to bed. Back in Brooklyn, it was considered a blessing to have all of the children bathed and in bed by eleven. Dewey commented about this to Amy in wonder as she watched the children file into the living room for their bedtime story.

"How do you do it? I haven't heard them complain once," Dewey told her, envious of the way the children actually obeyed their parents. 

"They know the rules. It's up to them to follow them or be punished," Amy replied as she folded some towels. "Their bedtime is nine o'clock. They need to be in bed at nine, not brushing their teeth, or combing their hair. If they aren't in bed, they know that they lose their privileges or they may get extra chores to do tomorrow. Mostly though I think they're trying to show off for guests."

Dewey had to laugh at this as Amy added, "We won't enforce those rules on your kids though. We're not their parents. That's up to you and Spot."

Dewey nodded in understanding and replied, "I've tried to get them to go to bed earlier. Mostly it was a losing battle though. They refused, even when I said that there were consequences."

"Just be firm about it," Amy told her, "hopefully tonight they'll be so tired from moving that they won't argue."

Both women laughed at the thought and went to the living room where they found their children and husbands sprawled out in various places, listening to Jack read the story of Robin Hood. Jack even attempted to incorporate the deep voice of Friar Tuck and the soft voice of Maid Marian as he intently read to them. Soon many of the children's eyelids began to flutter as they tried to stay up and hear the end of the story. Jack finished a few moments later, and the Conlon and Kelly children who were still awake made their way to their designated rooms for the night. Spot gathered Connor in his arms, for the child had dozed off and carried him upstairs as Jack copied the action with Adelaide. Soon all of the children were in their beds, most of them asleep before their heads hit the pillow. Jack, Amy, Dewey, and Spot all told the children goodnight and smiled in great satisfaction at the prospect that their children were getting along so well. Jack and Amy retired to their bedroom, leaving Spot and Dewey to some peace and quiet as they got ready for bed.

"I love you," Dewey smiled as her husband whispered in her ear and shared a kiss with her.

"I love you too," she replied as they broke apart and lay down in their bed. She had just turned the light out when Spot whispered her name and caressed her shoulder. 

"Lily, do ya think that Jack read the kids the Robin Hood story on purpose? Y'know, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and stuff?" Spot asked his wife as he played with a ringlet of her hair. Dewey looked at him, perplexed and sighed.

"Spot, he probably didn't give it any thought. He found a book and read it. It means nothing," she told her husband and looked over at him, his features still questioning the action.

"Okay," he conceded and gave her one more kiss. "Good night."

"Night Spot," Lily replied and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

In the master bedroom Amy sighed contently as she bookmarked a page in the book she was reading and gazed at her husband. 

"You know what I just realized?" she asked as she laid the book on the nightstand and snuggled closer to Jack, "we have eleven children in this house now. Eleven."

Jack smiled at her and replied, "Plus four adults. That's fifteen people in all."

Amy's chocolate eyes sparkled in astonishment. She smiled and declared, "We can make it work."

Both laughed softly and soon fell asleep in each other's arms, each wondering what would be in store for them for the next few weeks.

The next morning was fortunately a Saturday, so everyone slept late. Amy fixed pancakes for breakfast and much of the morning the children either played outside or explored more of the Kelly house. Jack enlisted Spot to help him assemble the two bunk beds he had in the storage room for the boys. 

"Where'd ya find these?" Spot asked as Jack handed him a mattress. 

"Ya mean you don't recognize them?" Jack replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Nah, sorry."

"They're from the old lodging house actually," Jack told him as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Really?" Spot took a double take of the wooden slat he was holding. 'Brooklyn was here' was carved in very familiar writing. He fingered the letters and smiled at the memory of his youth. 

"Yeah, I was in town about a year ago and heard that the Lodging House was going to be turned into a bar or something and so I went by there and walked around. This guy was cleaning stuff out and asked me if I was interested in taking anything since he had no use for any of it. I arranged to have my bunk and your old bunk sent here. I guess I wanted something from my past," Jack shrugged and handed Spot a footboard.

"You were in town? Why didn't ya stop by my place? We could've gone out for a drink at least," Spot asked him, wondering why his friend hadn't paid him a visit.

"Well I thought about it but I heard you were fighting that big O'Malley case and besides I don't drink anymore," Jack answered him. Spot almost dropped the box springs he was holding when he heard this.

"You don't drink at all? What are ya, Amish?" Spot inquired of his friend. Jack rolled his eyes and handed his friend a headboard.

"No Spot. I never really liked drinking that much. Sure it was great to go out every once in a while but when we parted ways, I guess that tradition died. Besides I have kids now. I'd hang myself if they ever got a hold of a bottle of alcohol or anything."

Spot nodded in understanding. Even though he hadn't been at home much before he was fired, he knew he would feel the same way if he came home and found a bottle of beer in Ethan or J.P.'s hands. Jack, taking advantage of the silence, decided to change the subject.

"Y'know Spot I was kinda surprised to get a telegram from you asking for help," he confided in his friend as he removed he last pieces for constructing the bunk beds.

"Really? Why?" Spot asked as they began to move all of the materials into the boy's room. He always thought he would be welcome at the Kelly's.

"Well, I kinda thought you had other friends ya know, some bigwigs that ya always socialized with. New friends maybe. I don't know, replacements for me and the other newsies," Jack sighed and glanced over to see Spot with a stunned look on his face.

"Replacements? Why would ya think that?" Spot asked, confused.

"I don't know, I mean we all went our separate ways but you, you went to law school. You became this big-time lawyer. And what were we? Reminders of your past. The past that you wanted to leave behind I guess. I mean, I knew we'd always stay friends, but you had a new circle of highly educated, upstanding individuals and we were just the kids ya teamed up with to beat Pulitzer," Jack replied as he shook his head. 

"Jack, we'll always be friends. I'm just sorry I neglected that fact as I became more successful. You'll always be my best friend. I know I can always count on you to help me out," Spot told him and smiled at his friend. "Thanks again, Jack."

"No problem, Spot."

The old friends finished assembling the bunk beds that afternoon and later that evening bound together once again to tell their children of their glorious revolution against Pulitzer, not that any of the offspring had never heard before.

"First and foremost, it was my idea," Spot smiled proudly as he began.

"Spot, tell them the truth…it was my idea," Jack corrected him and laughed as Spot glared. The children caught on and some even dared to giggle at the sight of a grown man being caught in a lie.

"Okay, so I admit it, the strike was Jack's idea, BUT I had a big hand in making it a success," Spot conceded to his captive audience. For almost an hour and half the Conlon and Kelly children sat in awe as they heard the story they'd been told times over in a new way, with two of the leaders present and contributing. Adelaide and Neeko even drifted to sleep because Spot and Jack would get off subject and argue about petty matters that really no one other than themselves cared about. They finally ended the story, recounting the feeling of defeating Pulitzer. The Kelly and Conlon children smiled and congratulated their fathers and walked upstairs to go bed. Everyone slept peacefully while visions of newsies tearing up papers and standing up to their oppressors danced in their dreams.

Felicity walked downstairs the next morning and adjusted the strap on her shoes. She entered the kitchen to find Ethan still in his pajamas and just sitting down to eat a slice of toast.

"Why aren't you dressed to go to church?" she asked him, wondering how he intended to go to church in an undershirt and long johns.

"Cause I'm not going," Ethan replied, drank his milk, and added, "you know, you don't have to do everything your parents tell you to." 

"I don't go to church because my parents tell me to," Felicity defended herself, her hands on her hips, hazel eyes blazing.

"Oh really? Just like you don't clean your room just because your parents tell you to?" Ethan countered and smiled as Felicity hesitated for a second.

"I do what my parents tell me because I respect them, something you have yet to learn," she replied, smirking to herself as Ethan sat in silence.

"Listen girl, if you lived the life I do, you wouldn't jump every time your parents told you to," Ethan glared at her, knowing he had taken a wrong turn in the conversation.

"Oh, and what life is that? The one that you have every opportunity available to you, you don't even lift a finger, much less thank anyone for anything! I see the way you treat everyone as if you're the king and everyone else is here to serve you. Even your brothers and sister don't act like this! What makes you think you're so special?" Felicity returned his glare as Ethan stepped closer to her.

"Why you little…" Felicity didn't even flinch as he got closer to her, but sighed in relief when Rhett, Andy, and Ty appeared, all dressed in their Sunday's best. The looked questionably at their siblings, but didn't say anything as Ethan set his plate in the sink and disappeared upstairs. A few moments later, he reappeared, still in his pajamas and took a seat in an easy chair and began to read the day's paper. Felicity rolled her eyes but did not comment. She would leave that up to Spot and Dewey who had just appeared and saw that their son was not dressed. Spot walked to the chair Ethan was sitting in and stood behind him, waiting to be acknowledged. When Ethan seemed to not even notice his presence, he swiped the paper from his son's grasp and smacked him on the head.

"Why aren't you dressed?" he hissed to his son as he unrolled the paper and waited for a pitiful explanation.

"Cause I'm not going," Ethan replied, his eyes full of determination. He folded his arms across his chest, reminding Spot of an indignant five-year-old. Well, if that was how he was going to act, that's how he would be treated. He grabbed a lock of his son's curly mane and asked, "Oh really? I would rethink that decision if I were you."

Spot straightened up as he saw his son cower and shook his head. Dewey caught his eye, her eyebrow raised and lips pursed. Spot sighed and glanced at Ethan. It seemed he could never do anything right by Dewey.

"Okay Ethan, you wanna stay here? Fine. If you stay, this place better be clean from top to bottom when we get back. Don't think you're going to spend the morning loafing around," at least he was giving Ethan a choice. 

Ethan groaned at the thought of picking up after himself, much less someone else. He glared at his father and slowly rose from his place in the easy chair. "Fine, I'll go."

Spot smiled in satisfaction, basking in the glow of his victory. Dewey, on the other hand, did not look pleased, but hid her disappointment as she gathered her Bible and helped Neeko put on his jacket. Soon everyone was ready to leave for church, and the Kelly's and the Conlon's began the short pilgrimage to the neighborhood church. Spot and Dewey trailed the large group as they talked about the morning's episode. 

"Well Spot, that was a great way to handle it. You just gave him an ultimatum and told him to choose," Dewey said, her tone harsh.

"Well what would you have done?" Spot knowingly asked, prepared for a lecture about parenting.

"I would have just told him to get up right now and get dressed. Otherwise, we'll drag you to church as you are and you can explain to people why you are still in your long johns. You may have gotten your way this time Spot, but just try to think before you make them choose," Dewey replied, "We're their friends, but that doesn't mean we stop being their parents. That's something you have yet to establish with them."

Spot ran a hand through his hair in frustration and almost lost his temper as he recounted times when Dewey had had her own shortcomings of being a model parent. Instead he whispered an apology and hugged her close to him as he kissed her forehead. A few feet ahead, Adelaide and Neeko were walking side by side and had heard the entire conversation.

"Do your mommy and daddy always fight like that?" Adelaide asked and risked a glance at the embracing couple. 

"Only when they're really mad," Neeko replied and looked toward his parents with a smile, "but they always get happy again cause my daddy apologizes and buys my mommy something."

The pair giggled at the comment and continued on, leaving Spot and Dewey to walk the rest of the way in treasured silence. 

The following morning, everyone was up early, milling around the house until the children left for school. Spot and Dewey walked with them to enroll their children in the school and laughed as the Kelly children talked about their school.

"Recess is the best part of the day," Luke informed them as he picked up a stick and drew some pictures in the dirt road. "Sometimes Miss Adams lets us out early and we play kickball games before we go home."

"Yeah, Miss Adams is really nice, but Miss Wells is kinda mean," Ty added as he also picked up a stick and pretended to joust with his younger brother. "She's the teacher for the older kids- Miss Wells."

"I happen to like her," Felicity interjected as she skipped along the road. "If you all didn't talk so much and get demerits, you would like her too."

"You just don't talk because you're too busy drawing hearts all over your papers and making goo-goo eyes at Paul," Rhett teased her and dodged a playful slap on the arm. 

They finally reached the school a few moments later, and the Kelly children showed them in. Dewey and Spot had to admit it was nothing like the private school their children attended; there was only one large room where all the children were taught and also only two teachers. The Conlon's stayed close to the Kelly children, and Dewey and Spot were greeted by the teacher who introduced herself as Miss Adams. She gave them some forms to fill out for registration purposes and left them sitting in something that resembled a closet more than an office space. Both Dewey and Spot began to fill out the paperwork, which kept them busy most of the morning. Spot was filling out Andy's papers when he came to a blank he couldn't remember. Andy's birthday. Was it the second or seventh of May? He had no idea if it was even in May. Recalling that Dewey was filling out Ruthie's papers, he risked a glance as he put his arm around his wife in attempts to try to see the necessary information. Unfortunately, Dewey's hand happened to be covering the space, and Spot rocked back in frustration as he tried to see the blank. Dewey, noticing that her husband had stopped filling out the paperwork, inquired, "Did you finish already Spot?"

She glanced over the form and nodded her head as she read the information to herself. "Oh Spot, you left one blank. See?"

Dewey gestured to the blank and looked at Spot questionably. Spot groaned and hid his face as he attempted once more to look at the form Dewey held in her hand. Dewey looked at Spot, her features contorted in confusion. "What's wrong Spot? Why don't you just finish filling out the form?"

"Hand cramp," Spot quickly replied and rubbed his left hand, only to realize that he in fact was rubbing the wrong hand. He quickly began to rub his right hand and smiled at his wife as he tried once more to see the information she held in her hands. Dewey looked up just in time to see Spot reading the information to himself, and sat back as she shook her head.

"Spot Conlon, you mean to tell me you can't remember your own son's birthday?" she asked him, unbelieving.

"Well, there's five of them Dewey. It slipped my mind. Honestly. Can I just see? Please?" He pleaded with her and kissed her cheek as she handed him her own form. He thanked her and copied the date down- September eighth. He shook his head. How could he have forgotten? He handed the form back to Dewey and heard a slight sniffling in the doorway. It was Andy. He had heard. Spot sighed, walked to where the boy was, and kneeled down to his level.

"I'm so sorry sport," he told his son and brushed a tear from his cheek. "I didn't mean to. I…"

Andy simply shook his head and turned away from his father. He broke out in a run, leaving a very agitated Dewey and an apologetic Spot to try to reconcile with their son behind. In a moment's decision, Dewey cautiously followed Andy and easily caught up with him as he began to tire. She hugged her son close to her chest and whispered countless apologies in his ear. Tears streamed down Andy's face as he looked up to see if his father were anywhere in sight. Sadly, Spot had stayed in the sanctuary of the office, determined to not cause further damage to his relationship with his son. 

"I'm so sorry, Andy. Your father's sorry too," Dewey stroked the boy's reddened cheek and smiled. Andy's head perked up at the sound of his father and shook his head.

"Why do you always have to apologize for him?!" Andy erratically shook his small fists in the air. Dewey sat back, stunned, as she watched her son run off to rejoin his classmates as they filed outside for recess. She returned to the office where she said nothing to Spot for the remainder of the time there.

The day wore on slowly, and the class was finally dismissed for recess. The younger children took part in a game of stickball while their elder siblings watched on. In J.P.'s case of course, this consisted of making some explicit remarks and scowling as he tried to concentrate on writing his latest work of prose while dodging a few stray balls that came his way. Miss Wells, who has supervising the children covered her mouth in disdain and made a mental note to approach him about his language use later in the day. After recess the children filed back into class and were all working diligently on their mathematics worksheets when Miss Wells made an announcement to the class.

"Remember we're having a picnic Friday so please bring a sack lunch. Your parents are also welcome to join us," She said as she politely smiled at her students. 

"Oh J.P., I'd almost forgotten. I've written a note for you to take home to your parents," Miss Wells addressed the youth who was currently engrossed with his latest Poe novel. Agitated and slightly embarrassed that she had made the announcement to the entire class, J.P. slowly rose and set his book on his desk. He sauntered to the desk Miss Wells sat at and retrieved the note she held out to him. Without even the slightest hesitation, he took the note in his hands and began to tear it into pieces. He looked up to see his classmates as well as his siblings staring at him, their mouths agape in horror. He looked back to Miss Wells, her features also exhibiting shock. He emptied his hands in the nearby trash can and walked back to his desk where he proceeded to retrieve his book and leave the classroom. 

PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. The Enigma that is JP

DISCLAIMER: Spot and Jack don't belong to us. But all of these pleasant kids do! Muahaha!

A.N.: Thanks for all the kindly reviews!

**A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One**

            The enigma known as J.P. entered the Kelly abode later than his siblings, for he wasn't quite looking forward to the punishment he knew awaited him for his actions during school earlier. Apparently, word of his supposed 'blasphemous' insubordination had spread like wildfire among those under the roof housing him, and he knew it couldn't have taken but an hour before his mother and father had learned of the happening as well. Which is why he wasn't making too loud a noise while ascending the stairs to his room. If he could simply sneak down the hallway and……

            "Joel Patron Conlon!"

            He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes tight in almost a wince, as if the pronunciation of his full name had brought such a sting to his flesh. Then, masking himself with nonchalance once more, he casually turned around to find himself standing before his very parents, their expressions ones of blatant displeasure. "Mother?" he replied, completely disregarding Spot's presence. Spot was obviously aggravated by the lack of respect and would've downright backhanded the boy had Dewey not spoken up.

            "What's this I hear about you disobeying your teacher on just your _first_ day of school? For once, do you think you could shelf your rudeness and pride and show respect to someone? You can't imagine how it made me feel to hear about this not from you, but from someone else's kids! What is going on, J.P? Why do you always have to defy someone?"

            The boy listened on expressionless, his dark cyan eyes consumed with indifference. "You know what they say: like father, like son." He threw Spot a challenging glare and turned around to start for his room, but his father grabbed his arm with an iron-like grip and spun him back about, pressing him up against a wall of the hallway so hard J.P. thought he'd gotten the wind knocked from him.

            "You listen to me real closely, J.P.," said Spot, with the menacing residue left behind from his times as Brooklyn leader, when his volatile temper did well to whip his newsboys into submission. "I'm getting tired of you thinking the world revolves around you. You've already switched schools twice back in Brooklyn, and I'm not catering to your needs any longer, you hear me? You need to learn how to grow up; who the hell do ya think you are acting like you can do whatever pleases you?"

            "Michael!" Dewey was aghast. It was no wonder Ethan and J.P. implemented such foul language into their vocabulary when they had a parent to model after.

            "And who the hell do ya think _you_ are ordering me around like my father when you haven't even been a part of my life these past fourteen years!" The boy was indignant, glowering up at the man in sheer defiance. It always bothered him how Spot could have rights to chastising them, but cast aside any aspects of family life dealing with love and more happier times.

            "Oh?" Spot showed no outward signs of his rage, save for his electrifying eyes now turned grey and brewing a storm. He wasn't surprised by his son's profanity, merely the audacity the boy had to utter the words before him. He grabbed J.P. by the collar of his shirt and began dragging him toward a nearby bathroom, absolutely merciless in his treatment, not stopping once despite the boy's tripping and falling from being forced on.

            Dewey quickly followed after, ready to intercede should her help be needed. Spot held the role of disciplinarian in the family, but she knew he sometimes went much too far. She watched as her husband threw open the bathroom door, yanked J.P. to the sink, and turned on the hot water, which began letting off steam in mere minutes. "I don't think your mother appreciates you cursing every other sentence. We're going to have to clean out that dirty mouth."

            J.P. opened his mouth to object but no sooner had he parted his lips, Spot shoved a slab of soap into his mouth, took it out after a good lathering, and then dipped the boy's face into the water steadily collecting into the sink. He repeated this three more times until the actions became so callous that J.P. was on the verge of suffocating!

            "That's enough!" Dewey said firmly, astonished by the rough treatment and more than willing to free her son from the punishment. She snatched him from Spot's hold and wiped the boy's face dry before sending him off to his room. When he was gone, she set her eyes onto Spot with a hard glare. "Were you planning on _killing_ him, Spot!"

            "I don't need this from you, alright? You always try to take their sides and make me look like the 'evil parent'. What they need is some hard-cold discipline, and if you're too humanitarian to do it, then I guess the job's mine, isn't it?" His face was taut, anger surging through his whole body.

            "What they need is a father who isn't a complete hypocrite! You lecture them day in and day out about what they can and can't do, but you're the first to break the rules!"

            "Do you think it's easy to be in my position!" he snapped back at her, his voice bordering a yell. "Damnit, Lily! Is that what I am to you? A hypocrite? But I guess it's completely fine that _this _hypocrite was the one who paid all the bills back in Brooklyn, put the first down payment on our house, spent a fortune on everything you and the kids ever wanted…I wasn't a hypocrite then, was I?"

            "That's not what I'm saying…"

            But he was already shaking his head, pushing past her to head downstairs. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over and he wasn't going to give her the time of day unless it was of the utmost necessity. "You just go on being their little hero, alright? Think whatever ya want about me, I couldn't care less." And then he left her with not a single word more.

            A few nights later, a most terrible rainstorm tore through the country-lands with a fierceness that hadn't been known for years. Citizens were advised through the radio airwaves to remain inside their homes until the gale passed, and to remain on high grounds should the heavy downpour of water cause a flood. Jack all the while kept a watchful eye on the storm's progress, ready to come to the ranch animals' aid if need be.

            Meanwhile, in the girls' room, Ruthie was tossing and turning on her bed in the midst of a nightmare. Awaking with a start, she was even more frightened to see dancing shadows play across the wall from the outside tree's branches and to hear the ammunition of rain descend unto the roof.

            "Don't worry, Ruthie," she heard a small and soft voice whisper beside her, which she recognized to belong to Adelaide. "We get storms like this a lot. Daddy says without rain there wouldn't be flowers, though, so it doesn't bother us. But if you're scared, we can always go to my daddy and mommy's room."

            "Why would you go there?"

            Adelaide cocked her head to one side curiously and scooted closer to her friend. She'd decided the first day the Conlon's had arrived that she wouldn't mind at all sharing a bed with the girl, and so presently they sat up under one cover, listening to the whistling wind. "Don't you ever go there when you have a nightmare? Whenever I have a bad dream, I go to mommy or daddy and they let me sleep on their big bed sometimes. But first we pray that God will take the bad dream away, and then we go back to sleep and have happy dreams."

            "Oh," replied Ruthie simply, and then "do you think we can go there now?"

            "Sure we can!" They threw off their covers, climbed onto their tiny feet, and snuck out the room quietly as to not wake Felicity, both clutching a doll to their chest. Before settling down at the bed of the Kelly couple, though, the young friends made a brief detour at one of the boys' bedroom, where Ruthie wished to invite Andy in accompanying her; being twins, the two were practically inseparable. Neeko had been awakened by the storm, as well, and desired to be in the company of his older siblings while Adelaide tugged on Luke's pajamas, pleading with him to attend the rendezvous. When the five children were situated, they marched onward to their destination, trying to stifle giggles as they held each other's hands and navigated their way through the dark halls.

            Back in the master bedroom, Amy was on the verge of falling asleep after having just read a few scriptures and encouraged Jack to obtain whatever grains of slumber he still could while the night was young, but he was too preoccupied with gazing out the window and wondering whether or not he should move some of the animals into the house. A few years ago when a tornado had struck the country, he-along with several cowhands-had worked hard and long to evacuate the horses, poultry, and goats into the first floor of the house! Quite a menagerie it had turned out to be, though the kids had been in love with the idea.

            "Sweety," he said to Amy for the fifth time that evening, "do you think I should go check on the animals?"

            "Jack, I'm sure they'll be fine. The storm isn't that bad, you know. Get some rest."

            He was about to go on, but the door to their room suddenly flung open, Adelaide standing in the door way consumed with girlish laughter. "I think we have company," he said to his wife with a grin, nudging her awake as he held out his arms to receive Adelaide into a hug. She, in response, dashed into the room and leapt toward her father, squealing with delight as he began to tickle her.

            Amy smiled at this and sat up against the bed's headboard, passing a hand through her daughter's silken light brown hair before she happened to glance back toward the doorway and realized she had more guests. "Oh, come on in, you guys," she said to them warmly, gesturing them forth. "Wow, we have Luke, Andy, Ruthie, and Neeko all here too. To what do I owe the honor?"

            Luke climbed onto his parents' bed and positioned himself right in the middle while Adelaide went on to explain Ruthie's fears. The three Conlon children stood side by side somewhat nervously, thinking perhaps they had no place hoping this woman would pacify their worries as she did for her own. But when Amy beckoned for them to take a seat on her bedside, their doubts were washed away.

            "Do you all remember the story of Noah's Ark?" the woman began with a smile. She received soft answers of "yes" or head-bobs in return and so proceeded with her speaking. "Noah and his whole big family were crunched up in the ark with all kinds of animals for a really really long time, weren't they?" She spoke slowly and with enthusiasm, wanting to catch the attention of each child. "It rained for so long, and I'm sure there were times when Noah and his family were scared, but why were they able to stay so peaceful do you think?"

            "Because they knew God was taking care of them!" Luke exclaimed happily from where he lay beside Jack. He grinned with bright eyes, hoping his reply had been correct. He'd learned this bible story in Sunday school last week, and remembered the details vividly.

            "That's right, Luke," said his mother, lightly laughing at the happiness his knowledge had brought him. "No matter how bad the storm got or how much they felt like being somewhere else, they knew God was taking care of them and that they had nothing to worry about. Sometimes in life, we get really scared because we don't know why things happen or when they'll stop, but if we just take a minute and remind ourselves that God loves us, we know nothing can ever separate us from Him."

            The Conlon trio hung on to every last word. "So he'll take care of us always?" asked Andy

            "Always."

            The conversation was momentarily disrupted when a light knock sounded on the door and signaled to those gathered within the room that yet another guest had come to visit. It was Rhett, dressed not in pajamas but rather the clothes he donned whenever helping Jack out on the ranch. "Dad," he said urgently, "can I check up on the animals right quick? Just to make sure they're doing okay. You don't want them thinking we've abandoned them."

            Jack was already shaking his head before the question had been completed. "I don't want you going out in that storm, son. It's too dangerous right now. I'll go check up on them in a few minutes."

            "But dad, why can't I just go now? It'll only take a little bit, and look, I'm already dressed…"

            "Then I'll go with you." He started to rise from the bed but Rhett took a step into the room, obviously determined to do this on his own, and said to his father with a serious and pleading expression, "Dad, let me be a man for once…" Jack looked at him, torn at the prospect of sending his thirteen-year old out into a storm, and glanced at Amy to see where she stood on the matter. With a heavy sigh, he combed his fingers through his hair and only nodded.

            Rhett was elated by the opportunity. "Alright! I'll be right back!" Grinning from ear to ear, he raced through the halls, down the stairs, and out into the rain to do his job.

            "Don't worry, Mr. Kelly," Neeko said to the man when he saw the concern on the father's face, "God will protect him."

            The day following the storm, the two families headed on outside to see about whatever damage had been down to the property. Fortunately, the harm wasn't too drastic; all that needed repairing was the stable, where several stalls had been battered to splintered shards, hay scattered all about the floor like party confetti. Jack was thankful no animals had been harmed during the previous night's portentous gale, though, and went about fixing up the wooden structures void of occupants in a somewhat optimistic manner.

            Rhett was at his side constantly, tossing over the tools Jack designated as the renovations were being made. He looked quite honored to be helping his father as so, for his spirits were lively and his face bright while Jack indulged the boy with a small tutorial about the instruments and types of wood being implemented for the stable's repair. Rhett listened intently, eyes sparkling with the curiosity of a child.

            "Dad, wouldn't it be better if we just knock down the excess wood? I mean, we don't even need this many stalls. It really seems like a waste of materials for these ones to be empty." He gently kicked at one of the empty sections, watching a fruit spider crawl out of a hole and scurry across the surface of the wall, and then looked back up to his father for a reply. He was only suggesting a reasonable possibility. After all, they had no more than six horses. Why have a stable that could house twelve?

            "Well think about it, Rhett," Jack answered patiently with a small smile, "what could the benefit of having extra space be?"

            The boy pondered this for a moment while passing the man a board of plywood and two six-inch nails. "Maybe we could offer boarding whenever a friend comes by horseback?" His father nodded encouragingly and thus he was inspired to continue his brainstorming. "I guess when you start breeding them again we'd need more room for the colts and the fillies. Plus, I guess it works to our benefit whenever we need to store supplies and stuff."

            "You're absolutely right," Jack replied, ruffling his son's hair before reaching for another nail. "See, these are the things you'll need to figure out for yourself one day when you run this business."

            Rhett beamed with excitement at the words and leaned against a three-foot haystack while he watched the man work. He couldn't wait for the day when he could finally follow in Jack's footsteps; it was something he and his brothers endlessly dreamed about. Hopefully, if he was able to run the ranch half as good as his father did, he'd deem himself beyond successful.

            His eyes turned to a melodic bout of giggles coming from the back patio of the house, where Adelaide and Ruthie sat having a tea party with their dolls with Felicity supervising. For the most part, the girls were getting along quite well. The youngest two shared a common passion for dolls and dress-up, and so not a word of dispute ever left their little mouths since the day allotted them plenty of playtime. He could tell his younger sister adored Ruthie's collection of dolls and miniature accessories, and if he'd concluded correctly about the Conlon girl, it wouldn't be long before they were sharing their possessions.

            He wished he could say the same for all the boys. Andy and Connor were the only ones who had enough cordiality in them to fellowship with Luke and Ty, and though the four socialized still with a barrier of hesitancy between them, he hoped they'd eventually get over their differences and become close companions. He wasn't use to fueling divisions among his siblings, and this unusual anarchy between the Conlon's was something that quite frankly disgusted him. Why was it that the mother and father were always arguing, and that half the time their children didn't seem to appreciate what was given them?

            "Connor sure likes our animals," he said aloud to himself, but low enough so that Jack hadn't heard him. While the others chased the two family Labradors for mere sport, Connor seemed to do it out of adoration for the dogs. Rhett had noticed this several times before as well. The blonde seemed utterly fascinated by any animal he passed. "He should be able to get along great with Ty since they both love nature so much…"

            "What, son?" Jack looked back at the boy after having sanded down some wood. When the boy assured him he hadn't said a thing, he went back to fixing up the stalls.

            Rhett continued analyzing each of the newly-arrived occupants of his house. Next was little Neeko, who enviously watched his older brothers lollygagging about with the dogs as he, himself, clutched ever so tightly that age-old stuffed bear he was always carrying about. Rhett truly believed Neeko was the easiest individual with whom one might get along among the Conlon children, and that was because the boy barely spoke a word! Didn't utter a single complaint, even though he had every right to, seeing how he suffered from bronchitis. "Poor Neeko…can't play as hard as the others. Maybe I can help him find other hobbies around here…"

            Next under his scrutinizing gaze was Ethan. The words: bratty, spoiled, unappreciative, and annoying came to mind. And it didn't sit too well with him that the boy had been so rude to Felicity Sunday morning. Rhett didn't mean to be judgmental but Ethan too eagerly self-appointed himself as prince of the Kelly estate, a pretty-boy who wouldn't lift a single finger to work if he could help it. "Even his own dad is working. The least he could do is help…"  At that moment, Spot returned from the shed to which he'd been sent to fetch an extra box of Jack's tools. With a "thank you", Rhett took the carton and placed it at his father's feet.

            That's when he noticed someone he'd almost looked over in his mental run-down of the family members. J.P. Just the thought of him filled Rhett with sheer hatred. His mother always taught him to love his enemies no matter how difficult it might be, but J.P. most certainly had to be an exception. He was dark, sadistic, and flat-out mean. He spoke with such profanity and disobeyed his parents in a way that shocked Rhett. What more, the Conlon boy wasn't even helping any, only lounging about against the door of a stall reading his confounded book of Oscar Wilde prose, occasionally shooting Rhett a smirk as if daring him to voice a complaint.

            Rhett surely wasn't one to be challenged and shot his own glare back at J.P. "Dad, don't you think J…" He was interrupted, though, when his mother came out with a plate of fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies, announcing in a loud but gentle voice that the snack was ready as soon as the children washed up from their playtime. Dewey was behind her with a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of small cups; she seemed content to have been able to help the woman in at least something.

            "Come on, Ruthie!" squealed a delighted Adelaide, as she climbed to her feet and rushed toward the cookies, only to be sent back by her mother to clean up the toys she had left behind. "But Mommy!" she protested with a childish pout, trying to bargain with the woman as she reached for a cookie.

            "Adelaide, as soon as you and Ruthie pick up all those dolls, you can have all the cookies you want." The little girl frowned playfully, hoping it would earn her a cookie for the moment, but seeing that her mother was constant in the decision, she rushed back to Ruthie and gathered as many dolls as she could hold in her arms to store them back into the trunk in their room.

            Meanwhile, Ty and Luke were working the water pump to thoroughly wash their hands, demonstrating to Andy and Connor how to properly manipulate the machine to get the water to surge out either gently or with steady force. Ethan wasn't too fond of cookies and so lingered behind near the shed where he was aimlessly strolling around thinking about the girlfriend he'd left behind while Neeko rushed to his mother half-coughing half-giggling to receive his own share of the midday snack. Felicity laughed at his eagerness good-naturedly and poured a cup of lemonade for herself and the small boy with a warm smile.

            Such harmony, though, was soon to be shattered. J.P. slammed the book he'd been reading shut and shoved past a still-laboring Rhett with a critical look. "Are you going to lick the mud off your dad's boots too, Rhetty-boy?" he whispered in mockery, his grin lopsided as he reaped a glare from his counterpart. Knowing Rhett was too busy helping Jack to retaliate, and that he was too respectful toward his parents to do so anyway, J.P sauntered toward Mrs. Kelly and his mother for a brief repose from his idleness.

            As he reached for a cookie from the plate, though, Amy slowly retracted the tray and offered the boy a smile instead. "They're really delicious, J.P. Maybe if you helped out the others for a bit you could have one. I baked them so that when they took a break, they could have something nice to eat." Her intentions were benevolent and of the utmost kindness, but the boy assumed she simply didn't want _him_ to enjoy what was obviously prepared for her own children, and in a sudden fit of rage he smacked the plate from her hands, sending the 16 cookies flying to the grass. "Fine!" he spat. "I didn't want the stupid thing anyway." Amy was taken aback by the action, and Dewey rendered speechless out of shame.

            Rhett looked on in horror, filled with an urge to knock the boy upside the head. He started forward but Jack held him back gently, reminding him they had work to do. Rhett didn't understand how his father could be so passive…until he saw Spot stalk toward the incident with obvious motives to scold his son.

            Spot snatched J.P. by the back of his shirt and through clenched teeth ordered that the boy apologize. When J.P showed no signs of humbling himself, Spot tightened his grip until the boy was quite near to yelping from pain. Finally, not wanting to provoke his father's wrath further, he mumbled a "sorry", eyes diverted downward in a sour scowl.

            "Good," said Spot, releasing him and then crossing his arms. "Since you wanted a snack so badly that you had to act rude, you can have it now. Eat all the cookies. Off the ground."

            J.P.'s eyes widened at the bizarre demand as he looked at the damp grass upon which the cookies had fallen. Surely his father didn't expect him to consume such grime! A thousand snappy retorts ran through his mind, but he had a feeling he'd be publicly humiliated if he dared talk back this time around.

            "It's okay," Amy said with a small smile, trying to keep the day as lighthearted as possible. "I can always make another batch. Would you like to help me, J.P.?"

            He gave her an incredulous look and started to turn away, but Spot grabbed him again and gestured toward the cookies. "Eat. Them." J.P. looked at his mother for aid, but she was resigned in this matter, obviously telling him in wordless dictation that he'd gotten himself into the mess. Desperate to not make it evident how much his pride was blown by the situation, J.P. dropped to his knees and angrily began snatching up the cookies, shoving them into his mouth, fighting back the urge to hurl at the mere thought of eating infested baked goods.

            "I'd hurry up if I were you," Spot suggested with a light smirk. "Ya never know what insects are crawling on those things."

            This made the boy nearly gag, but he continued on nonetheless. He'd just been given yet another reason to hate his father so.

Whew! Long chapter! Please review!


	6. Reflections on the Past

**_A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One _**

Disclaimer: Sadly, Jack and Spot do not belong to us. We'll still play with them anyway.

A.N.: Thanks so much for the reviews!! Throws the good cookies to the reviewers J.P. didn't a hold of these!! Muahahahaha!!

Later that evening, Amy and Dewey took time to relax as they rocked back and forth in the rocking chairs on the wraparound porch and watched their husbands and children play a lighthearted game of stickball. They laughed as Jack tried to instruct Adelaide how to hold the stick and aim for the ball that was coming. She had technically already struck out four times, but the young girl would not give up until she made contact with the ball.

"How do you do it?" Dewey asked as she sipped some lemonade. "How do you run this house and make it look so simple?"

Amy laughed and gave the woman a disbelieving look. "Simple? Is that what it seems to you?" Dewey nodded in reply and smiled meekly as Amy laughed once more. She shook her head and simply replied, "Years of practice."

"It wasn't always this way. I remember when Rhett was born. The ranch was just starting to become popular and new buyers were coming by two or three times a week," she looked at Dewey, who encouraged her to continue. "Felicity was almost two and still a baby herself. Everything was going fine for a few weeks. More buyers. More money. Life was pretty nice.

"Then one day Rhett began to cry and cry and cry. He just wouldn't stop. Jack would hold him, I would hold him, it made no difference. He was a healthy baby; he just wouldn't stop crying for anything. The doctor said it was called colic or something of the nature and there was nothing we could do. It wasn't anyone's fault, it just…happened. Jack and I would take turns; one of us would stay up at night while the other slept and the next night it was reversed. I felt so bad for Jack. In the middle of all of this he was trying to run a ranch and he was practically dead on his feet by noon. I'm just thankful Felicity doesn't remember how much attention we paid to Rhett and how sometimes she was left to play by herself while we took care of Rhett.

"I remember once I must have been asleep or busy with Felicity and a buyer had come up to look at the cattle. Well Jack just took Rhett out there with him on his shoulder and gave the man a tour of the ranch and showed him the cattle and everything. I thought it was so sweet. Jack just walked around like it was nothing, just holding Rhett. I guess that's why he has such a hard time letting Rhett do things on his own. He remembers constantly watching over him, holding him, caring for him.

"Those are the experiences you learn from, they shape the relationship you have today," Dewey nodded her head in agreement and sighed, longing for a story so touching as her friend's to share.

"Spot was in between cases when Connor was born. I should have known something was wrong when he only stayed at the hospital for two hours and then hurried back to the precious courthouse," Dewey shook her head, "sometime back then work became more important than family. It didn't matter if Spot only saw his children for a few minutes as long as he was making the money to feed and clothe them."

Amy put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder and assured her everything would be alright as Dewey continued. "I don't understand why J.P. hates Spot so much," Dewey glanced down as she mumbled, "they're so much alike."

"Maybe that's the problem," Amy replied thoughtfully and looked at her friend. "Sometimes people are too much alike, and they just…don't get along. I think Rhett and Jack are starting to get the same way. I hope not though."

Dewey smiled at her friend and sighed. "Oh, Neeko's birthday is next week. I haven't even given it a thought until now."

"Really? Amy asked, surprised, "we could go to the general store and find some birthday presents in a few days. I need to get some sugar and flour and some other things anyway."

The women agreed to make a journey the following week and cheered as Andy hit the winning ball and jogged excitedly around the bases. The two families celebrated into the night as the children played games and reveled in the night air.

The following week approached quickly and the two families hastily prepared for Neeko's upcoming birthday which, by luck, happened to fall on Saturday. Neeko was sure to remind all the occupants of the household that his fifth birthday was approaching and he would soon be a 'big boy'. His bronchitis had not been fully extinguished, but the young child seemed to thrive away from the smog produced by the city he called home. Dewey was concerned that his medicine was in short supply, but he assured her that as soon as he turned five, he would not longer have a need for it.

"Noo, Mommy," Neeko wailed as Dewey forced him to open his mouth as he wrinkled his small nose in disgust. "I don't need it! I don't want it! Nooo!"

"Baby, you have to take it. Please Neeko…," Dewey watched her son swallow the liquid and scowl as though she had just forced him to drink poison. Neeko jumped up from his place on the chair to rejoin his companions outside to revel in a game of tag. He stopped at the door and announced to his mother, "Just wait and see Momma, after today I won't have to drink it ever again!"

"If it were only that easy," Dewey murmured as she watched her son run back and forth with the occasional cough or gasp of air. She smiled sadly as she rinsed the spoon she had used to give him his medicine and prayed that Neeko would be right and God would take away her son's ailment.

Later that evening Neeko sat proudly in front of his chocolate cake that displayed a large '5' in the middle surrounded by five candles as everyone sung "Happy Birthday". He clapped his hands when it was over and shut his eyes to make a wish as his lips moved to silently recite his want. In one swift movement he opened his eyes, grinned at his cake, and blew all of the candles out to the approval of his guests. Everyone clapped as Neeko insisted his piece be the biggest and also from the very middle of the '5'. Dewey smiled as her son tried to feed himself without making a mess and succeeded in doing so for the most part. Neeko accidentally smudged some of the icing on his cheek and in an attempt to remove the icing he only made the smudge larger and laughed as Felicity tried her best to clean his face. Dewey wished she had one of those newfangled smaller cameras to capture moments like these, for as a mother, she realized the moments she treasured with her children were becoming fewer in number as they got older. Neeko squealed in delight as Luke reminded him that the night was not over, for he had some birthday presents to unwrap. Neeko reached out and bounced in his chair as his present from his family was placed on the table in front of him.

"From Mommy, Daddy, Andy, J.P., Ethan, Ruthie, and Connor," Neeko sounded out his family members' names and grinned to each of them as he began to tear off the wrapping to reveal a bright red spinning top and a set of blocks. Neeko grinned in delight and hugged the treaures close to his chest, eager to try out his new toys. He thanked his family and gathered his belongings to tuck away in his room when Amy addressed him, "Neeko, we have something for you too."

Neeko looked up in time to see where Jack and Rhett stood proudly and moved aside to let him see his present. Neeko almost dropped his toys in surprise to see a rocking horse with a blue ribbon tied around its neck with his name on the bow. Neeko screamed his thanks many times over and carefully set the top down to try out his new horse. The children and adults seemed oblivious to Dewey's disapproval of her son's new toy. She had told Amy she wished to give him a rocking horse, but the general store did not have one in supply, so where did Amy find this?

Amy must have sensed Dewey's anger, for she followed her friend silently out to the porch when Dewey signaled her over. Dewey sat on the bench and looked her friend straight in the face. Amy lowered her head and whispered something inaudible.

"What?" Dewey asked as she leaned closer.

"I'm sorry. I know you really wanted to give him that rocking horse, and I found it a few days ago and got Jack to spiffy it up just in time. It was Rhett's, and then Ty's and then Luke's. Then last spring Luke decided he was too big to play on the rocking horse and Adelaide didn't have an interest in playing with it, so we put it away for safe keeping."

"Amy, you just made me look like the worst mother in the world. Why did you keep this from me? Are you trying to win my family's approval one child at a time? Will I wake up tomorrow and Ruthie has her own dollhouse? To me it seems they are quite fond of you and your family."

"Dewey…Lily, I'm sorry, really I am. I feel terrible, and if I can make it up to you, I will. I…I was selfish and I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I know I obviously didn't. If there's anything I can do, please let me know. I'm sorry for all of this, really."

"I just wanted him to have a good birthday. Do you know what he told me earlier today? That today was the last day he would have to take his medicine for his bronchitis. I know it bothers him that he can't play as hard as the other children and every morning he has to take this medicine, and I just wanted him to feel good for once. The rocking horse seemed to be the answer. He wouldn't run out of breath as quickly, and his cousin Ike had one when we visited my family last Christmas. Neeko fell in love with it even though he could barely reach the foot holsters. He squealed for hours on end just riding back and forth."

"I didn't know how much it meant to you. I'm truly sorry. Please try to forgive me," Amy lightly touched Dewey's arm and returned inside the house to finish cleaning up. Dewey remained in her place on the bench and stayed there until Connor found her and informed her that she needed to help him, Andy, and Ruthie with their baths. Dewey smiled at the reminder of how she was still needed and wanted in her children's lives. Spot had watched the ordeal from afar and smiled to himself in realization of how lucky he was to have Dewey and his children.

Felicity entered the Kelly household and sighed as she took an apple from the fruit basket on the table and sulked into the living room. Ethan took notice of her behavior but paid it little attention as he studied the sports section of the local newspaper. Amy, Lily, and Ruthie were also in the living room folding clothes and towels, for the other children were doing assorted chores, taking naps, or playing around the house. Felicity found a place on the couch by her mother and put her head in Amy's lap as she informed her audience of what she had learned.

"Paul asked Kathryn to the ice cream social. Kathryn of all people. She does like to tease him and she flirts with him during recess. But why her? I thought he would ask me! After all, I sit by him and he's even asked me to study with him a few times," Felicity frowned as her mother tried to comfort her. Ethan rolled his eyes as he kept his face hidden in the paper. Girls were so dramatic.

"Kathryn was talking about it after school on the way home. Now she's decided she wants to walk home with Paul and me instead of Nellie and Mary like she always does. She even kissed Paul's cheek when she had to turn in the fork in the road to go to her house! Paul didn't even seem to care! Now what am I supposed to do? The social is in four days."

"Felicity," Amy stroked her daughter's hair back from her forehead, "it'll be alright. You won't be completely alone. All of us will be there, which is more than enough to keep you company."

"But I wanted to go with Paul," Felicity whined as she sat up and took a bite of her apple. Ethan sighed, hoping that the drama-fest was over. He risked a glance at Felicity, who was now gazing blankly out the window and feeling sorry for herself. Girls, he sighed to himself, they just have the power to do things to you.

"Hey Felicity?" He addressed her sincerely as he folded the paper and looked at her. "Would you like to be my date for the social?"

Felicity's eyes grew wide at the question. "Really? You mean it?"

Ethan shrugged as Dewey gave him a scolding look that told him not to play around with the girl in a time like this. "Yeah, sure."

"Oh, thank you Ethan! You just saved my life!" Felicity jumped up and hugged the boy in his seat. Ethan grimaced as she squeezed him tight and left the room squealing. Amy and Dewey shared a knowing look and went back to folding the linens.

The following morning Amy and Dewey prepared to do their third load of laundry for the day. Dewey scrubbed a stain from J.P.'s shirt and sighed as it did not seem to be coming out. She had forgotten how hard it was to clean clothes, especially ones that were stained. She sighed as she rubbed some more soap along the stain and scrubbed the shirt against the washboard. Defeated, Dewey put the shirt to the side and went on to washing an undershirt.

"I'll be right back, Dewey. I'm going to see if Rhett put his clothes in the basket," Amy ventured upstairs to the older boys' room that was quickly becoming a pigsty. She sighed as she walked over piles of clutter and made a mental note to have the boys pick up after they got home from school. Finally she located a small heap of clothes next to Rhett's cot. As she picked up a pair of slacks, something fell from the pants pocket and landed on the floor. Amy picked up the item to inspect it: chewing tobacco. She quickly dropped it again as her hands began to shake from shock.

"Jack!" She bellowed as she clutched the item in her hand, her voice wavering. "Jack!"

Luckily, Jack had just come inside to retrieve a glass of tea when he heard his wife's faltering voice. He shared a concerned glance with Dewey and climbed the length of the stairs in record time, Dewey uncomfortably following at a safe distance. He found Amy sitting on Rhett's cot, her face mirroring absolute shock as she turned the can over and over in her hand.

"How?" Amy didn't even make sense to herself as she looked in Jack's eyes, a pained expression on her face. Jack took the item and gripped it hard, anger and disappointment flowing through his veins. "I'll kill him."

"No Jack…we just need to talk to him," Amy assumed the role of the sensible one as she placed a hand on her husband's arm, her eyes pleading. Jack sighed heavily and glared at the floor. His son chewing tobacco? When had this started?

Dewey had since slinked away, knowing this was a private conversation and began to prepare lunch. The Conlon and Kelly children soon arrived, ready for two days without schooling. Amy and Jack joined them a few moments later and seemed to be calm as they ate, drank, and laughed all through lunch. As the children finished lunch and began to do their chores, Jack and Amy pulled Rhett aside from his daily chore of refilling the troughs of the animals.

"What is this?" Jack asked Rhett as he pulled his son a way's distance from the house. Rhett glanced at the can in his father's hand and replied, "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me son," Jack tightened his grip on the can, "now I'll ask one more time- what is this doing in your pocket?!"

Jack's harsh tone startled both his son and wife for they seemed to jump at his merciless voice. "I only tried it once Dad…"

"Once? Once! And then what were you gonna do? Throw it out? If ya ask me, you'd probably finish the can off…"

"Jack! Stop it!" Amy took the can from her husband and silently dismissed him and his temper from the conversation. "Now Rhett, why do you have something like this?"

"Mom, I…I only wanted to try it. The guys at school gave me it to try, and I did. But I promise I won't do it again."

"Are you promising this because you mean it or just because you got caught?" Jack interjected, his voice becoming dangerously harsh once again.

"Jack, stop. Now," Amy shot him a look to stop immediately, but Jack only continued his verbal attack on his child. "Listen to me real close Rhett, because if I ever, ever find out that you brought that stuff into this house again, you can pack up and leave because you won't stay here."

"Jack, go into the house," Amy retorted, her tone becoming one that only a mother can reach when she is very upset. Jack silently obeyed and slammed the back door, making the mother and son jump for the second time that day.

"Mom, I really, really wasn't going to do it again. Please believe me," Rhett pleaded with Amy, his voice begging for forgiveness. "Rhett, just go to your room."

Rhett looked sullenly at the ground and did as he was told. He entered the Kelly household, tears streaming his cheeks as he confronted Jack who sat at the kitchen table. "Dad, I know you tried that stuff before. You've had to have. You know why? Because I once found a can in your dresser drawer when I was looking for a pair of socks to wear."

Jack almost fell out of his chair from shock and looked to see Amy in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot from crying. Rhett chose this time to make his exit and left his parents alone to sort out this unfamiliar territory.

"Jack," Amy began in a weary voice, "is that true? You have chewing tobacco in your dresser?"

"Amy, I…," Amy arched an eyebrow, "I was stressed out. I haven't done it in awhile…just when Spot and his family first got here…all those adjustments…"

"Don't talk to me right now Jack," Amy exited the room as tears stung her eyes, leaving Jack with his own guilt about his past actions. He quickly decided to take action and found Amy sprawled out on their bed and crying into her pillow.

"Amy, I'm sorry," Jack rubbed her shoulder as he lay beside her. "Please look at me."

Amy glanced at him and mumbled, "Jack, I just don't want Rhett picking up bad habits of yours…"

"Bad habits?! Sorry I can't be all perfect like you!" Jack turned to exit the room but a solemn face and soft hand kept him in his place. Amy looked him in the eye as she sat up and said, "Jack, I never told you the real reason I came to New York."

"Yeah ya did. You said you were spending the summer with your aunt and uncle and you were gonna get a job as a nanny or sitter or something…" He paused as Amy began to shake her head. "No, that wasn't the real reason."

"My brother, John, was an alcoholic. When he first started drinking, it was just after work, or maybe at dinner. Then it seemed that everything he drank had to be whiskey or gin or something like that. My parents knew he was out of control, and they didn't want me around it, so I was sent to New York to spend the summer with my aunt and uncle so that I wouldn't have to see my brother like that. They thought that they would have him under control at the end of the summer, and maybe I could come back and settle down in Texas. It was about a week before I expected to get any sort of message when an urgent telegram came to my aunt and uncle's house: my brother, in a drunken rage, had gotten into a fight and his head had been slammed against a pipe; he was basically left there to die. My father found him in this dreamlike state; he was still breathing but he didn't respond to anything. The doctor said he was in a coma, and probably by the time I received the telegram, John would be dead.

"So that's why I never liked the thought of you drinking; I know that bad habits die hard, and I couldn't bare to see another person I loved become controlled by alcohol or tobacco, so that's why I pushed you so hard to stop," Jack glanced up to see a tear stain Amy's cheek and brushed it away.

"I'm so sorry Amy," He embraced her tightly as he kissed her head. She cried against his shirt and gently pushed him away. "I've never spoke of him until now. I was…ashamed I guess, and I thought that if I never talked about him it would be like he never existed. I'm sorry I never told you."

"It's okay; I guess we all have our secrets, things we're not so proud of," Jack replied as he stroked her back and kissed her cheek. He lifted Amy to his lap and rocked her as he dried her tears.

After supper that evening, Jack and Rhett decided that they would both throw their cans away. They handed Amy their cans, which she promptly threw away, never to enter their household again. As she entered the living area where all the children were gathered to hear their nighttime story, she heard many groans and complaints.

"Sorry, we ran out of stories," Jack told the children for the third time as he sorted through the books on the shelf. "I read all of them already."

"Boo!!" The younger children voiced their discontent as Felicity, who held Neeko in her lap, stated, "Why don't you tell us how you and Mom met? Please?"

"You've heard that story thousands of times," Amy replied as she pulled up a chair by Dewey and Spot, to which Felicity said, "Well the Conlons' haven't heard it yet."

"Please tell us!!" Ruthie exclaimed from her place by her twin brother and Luke. The children seemed to approve as they encouraged Jack to tell the story. "Well alright."

"Once upon a time…" Jack began as the children giggled and listened eagerly. "I lived as a newsie in Manhattan. It was the last year, I thought, I would be leader because I had turned eighteen and needed to get a 'real job' soon. Well one morning I was selling on a corner when this beauty comes up to me and asked how to get to Mason and Eighteenth Street. So I told her how to get there and she tried to give me a nickel. Well I couldn't accept any money from a lady for directions; it just wasn't right. But I had noticed how she seemed a little lost as I explained to her where to turn, which way to go, things like that, so I offered to walk her there, which by God's grace, she agreed. I found out she was staying with her aunt and uncle for the summer; she had some problems back home. Her brother was in bad shape because he drank all the time and so her parents thought she should go stay with some other family while they tried to set him straight.

"She was an angel to me. Brown hair, beautiful brown eyes, she was a dream. I made a point to sell by where she was staying, and I saw her every morning when she bought a paper from me for her uncle. Gradually I asked her to go to dinner and a show with me at Medda's. After that, it was love. I knew it. She was the one. Spot even said he knew she was the one for me. He said we had that look, the look only true love can have. She was the last thing I thought about when I went to bed and the first thing that came to my mind when I got up. At the end of the summer she thought maybe her brother would be all better, but she got a letter from her parents saying that her brother had gotten into a fight and his head had been hit against a pipe and he was in a coma. They said that he would probably die before she received the letter and told her she could stay in New York if she wanted. Well I was mighty glad she decided to stay, she was my whole life.

"I proposed to her with this small silver ring on a rainy day in March with twenty cents in my pocket. She accepted right off- didn't even hesitate. I was so nervous, I had had the ring for about two weeks trying to find the right time to ask her, and it almost fell down the sink once while I was washing my face and had set it up by the soap dish. I remember she had come to meet me at the park when it started to rain. I took my jacket off because it was still cold out, and she held it over our heads, well almost over my head. I remember she started to walk away, thinking we were gonna get out of the rain. Nah, I dropped to one knee right there. She started to cry and said yes. We kissed in the rain for maybe ten minutes. That summer we were married and we lived happily ever after."

Jack was met with silence as he concluded the story. Finally Ty spoke up and told him, "Dad, we never heard that version before, about mom's brother and everything."

"Well, that's because _I _never knew about him either, until today. So that's why," Jack paused as he gathered Luke onto his knee, "We don't want y'all to ever get involved with alcohol or drugs. We want y'all to be healthy and live to see your children and your children's children grow up. Okay?"

"You got it Dad," Luke replied and giggled as the other children answered with similar replies. The four parents smiled with pride as Andy asked, "Daddy, how did you meet Mommy?"

"Well I umm…was a newsie in Brooklyn and uh…she was...I think, yeah she was a newsie in Queens and we met during the strike," Spot began as Dewey murmured, "a month after the strike."

"Right, a month after the strike, and I thought she was the most beautiful thing to ever grace this earth. She was so gorgeous and just so pure for someone from Queens and all…"

"Ah hem," Dewey playfully scowled as her husband continued.

"So I finally asked her out and she, of course, said yes. Our first date was…in Little Italy. We had a candlelit dinner and…"

"Spot, tell it right," Dewey interjected and sighed as Spot arched his eyebrow, "Our first date was on the docks. We ate knockwursts as we watched the sun set. Then we danced in the moonlight on the dock until one of his idiot friends thought it was a good idea to push both of us into the East River. Remember Spot?"

"Wha…?" Spot's confused nature and open mouth conveyed the silent message that he didn't have the slightest idea of what she was talking about. Lily took this to heart as she mumbled a small "Excuse me" and proceeded to exit the room, her face red from embarrassment.

Please review!! Push up popsicles to everyone who reviews!!


	7. Union Through Tragedies

DISCLAIMER: Spot and Jack don't belong to us. But all of these pleasant kids do! Muahaha!

A.N.: w00t w00t! Amy and I would like to thank our kindly reviewers! You guys rock. We are thoroughly glad you are enjoying this story, because it certainly is fun to write. Smiles Anyway, happy reading with this chapter!

**A Tale of Two Families...Trying to Make it as One**

Saturday marked the long awaited Ice Cream Social annually held for the occupants of the countryside neighborhood. Because it was a central location of the area and thus close to virtually all households, the church meeting house hosted the event, its front acreage serving as the lands upon which families conversed, laughed, and watched their children play amidst the apple blossoms in the sweet-scented breeze of the autumn air. The aroma of sugary cotton candy, as well as the resonance of the guest band, accented the affable environment and did well to give off the sense of community.

Ethan walked aside Felicity with his hands in his pockets, for once at a lost for topics of conversation. When he'd asked her to be his date, he hadn't been aware of just how alone they were to be. True, their family members were present and somewhere about the area, but quite frankly, it was as if Ethan was now concretely bound to the girl who'd accompanied him. "So...are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, more to disrupt the silence than to ascertain a view on her feelings.

"Oh yes! My family and I come here every year; the band last time wasn't so great but I rather like the one playing tonight." She smiled and clasped her hands behind her back as she listened on to the vibrant melodies of the bass, banjo, and companions. Her dark chocolate locks of hair were styled more formal than usual, with half pulled up with a lacey burette and the other left loose to fall past her shoulders.

He nodded and absentmindedly began to deal his role as audience as well while his thoughts strayed elsewhere. Particularly, to his former girlfriend, Rebecca Winters. Too impatient for his return and unwilling to deal with the hassles of long distance relationships, she had – in her latest letter – addressed her inability to be his girlfriend any longer. This naturally had ruined his mood for quite a time, putting him in the most vulnerable position when he'd asked Felicity to the social. However, he was finding he actually liked her company more than he thought he would.

When the band had finished playing their last song for the time being, Ethan pretended to be occupied with observing his surroundings, namely the whereabouts of his siblings and parents. His mother (hand in hand with Neeko) and father were speaking with Miss Wells about J.P.'s behavior problems while the boy in question concealed himself behind the rosebushes alongside the meeting house where he read Oscar Wilde's _The Picture of Dorian Grey. _Ruthie and Andy were, as always, playing with their Kelly counterparts-Adelaide and Luke. Rhett and Ty shared a bout of mirth with their classmates as they exchanged jokes while sitting on the fence posts, leaving Connor to drift away with an increasing interest in a stray dog.

"Ethan, when the band starts playing the slower music, would you like to dance with me?"

He turned his attention back to her and stuttered for an answer. "Uhm...sur-"

"Felicity!" Two girls with their hairs done up in ribbons and bouncing curls rushed up to their friend and gleamed. "Who is this handsome devil! You didn't tell us you were hiding a boy from us. Hi there!" They burst into giggles and proceeded to carry on conversation with Ethan while escorting him toward the refreshments table.

Felicity stayed behind, deprived of a date and quite upset about such a fact. "Ugh! The nerve!" She crossed her arms and started to storm toward her parents, who were speaking with the men who'd formerly owned the ranch, to be consoled. No sooner had she taken but seven steps, though, a most detestable sight caught her eyes. Her long time crush, Paul, had just kissed Kathryn under the falling leaves of the church oak tree! Eyes welling up with tears and lips ajar, she vehemently decided to make her departure from the social immediate. She was near reaching the dirt road when someone of a sudden blocked her path. "Ethan!"

He planted his palms onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath; it had taken a quick sprint to catch up with her from where he'd been. "Where...are you going?"

"Home," she said simply, pushing past him. "As if you care. Why don't you return to your fans back there and blow me off again." She gave him a cutting look, and then continued on toward home, even after he had called after her twice. Ethan watched her retreating figure with a remorseful heart, and sighed aloud as he felt impelled to go after her.

Rhett Kelly tightened his grip on the shoulder strap of his book bag when school let out that following Monday and scanned the area for a companion with whom he might walk home. Felicity, as always, was doing her best in assisting Miss Wells by tutoring the younger students in their grammar and mathematics while Luke and Ty were caught up in a neighborhood game of kickball which would probably last until just before dusk. "Come on, Rhett...you can't walk _alone_..."

That's when he saw him. Slipshod and casual as always, J.P. trampled home over gardens and through bushes while his peers more respectfully took to the dirt roads. Surprisingly he didn't have his nose in a book, and though Rhett considered it a major blow to his pride to congregate with the outcast Conlon, he wouldn't deny there was strength in numbers. "Hey J.P.," he called out as he hurried along the few yards separating him from the boy, "wait up!"

J.P. slowly turned around at the sound of his name and arched an eyebrow upon seeing Rhett. "I distinctly remember asking you not to address me in public." He gave the younger a sardonic look, but his lips were creased out in a smirk, as if he were merely joking. He was about to start off homebound, but was interrupted by rushed words.

"I just thought we could walk home together, ya know? I mean, we are heading for the same place anyway and, I don't know...I just figured it'd be cool since we don't really talk that much and..."

At some point, J.P. simply ceased in listening and looked past Rhett at two boys stalking through the grasslands, their eyes filled with malevolent intent. "You know those two scabs over there?" he asked, nodding toward the pair.

"Oh yea, yea," he answered, without looking back. "They're like...good friends of mine." He switched his weight from one foot to the other, a bit nervous under J.P.'s steady and uncompromising look. He would've said further, but the would-be inconspicuous duo in question abandoned their distant post and approached the others.

"Hey J.P.!" The first one called out. His name was Scott Summers, and he had a personality which ran contrary to anything pertaining to summer fun. A wisecrack and ruffian, he'd sooner indent a stranger's face than try to make friends. "I didn't think you were the type to be passing the days with worthless river trash like Rhetty here." Laughing most annoyingly, he shoved Rhett toward his companion.

"Yea," spoke the companion, clamping a hand on Rhett's shoulder and tightening his grip mercilessly. "He's not even cool enough to lick the mud off your boots. But I guess we can make him anyway." He pushed Rhett to the ground and ordered him to do as he had mentioned, but J.P. backed away out of disgust and claimed such insolence wouldn't be necessary. They, of course, couldn't quite understand his vocabulary and so took to abusing the Kelly boy themselves.

"Is it true you're living with this lower class cowhand? I heard the Kelly's slept in pigsty's every night."

J.P. smirked at this, simply because it was quite the idiotic insult. Quite frankly, the Kelly family had one of the biggest houses in the countryside! Apparently, these two needed to brush up on their research before opening their mouths to make retorts. "Yea, I'm living with him. So if you don't mind, don't waste your time pulverizing him or _I'll _be the one sleeping in the pigsty." The bullying pair got a kick out of such a statement for whatever reasons and decided to forsake their cruelty for now and instead fellowship with J.P. on his way home.

"Hey, wait up, kid." Scott jogged up to the Conlon boy and tossed him a small rectangular box, upon which was nothing more than a simple design and scripted words.

"What's this?"

"Oh come on, city slicker. Don't tell me you can't recognize a cigarette box." He laughed and slapped J.P. on the back as they progressed down the dirt road together, leaving Rhett behind to wallow in his own 'unworthiness'. "Come on, light one up. Let's have us a victory smoke, shall we?"

J.P. hesitated for a moment, but not wanting to appear weak in anyone's eyes, he opened the box and received the match from Scott's companion.

Fortunately for Amy, Luke and Ty's kickball game didn't last too considerably long, and when they had finally arrived home only an hour after the other children, she very much desired to call into order a family meeting. She didn't mind in the least bit having the Conlon's lodge in her house no more than she minded catering to their needs every now and then. She wasn't too favorable of being drained of her energy, however, especially when the lot of them were relatively capable of pulling their weight around the house. Last night she'd had to not only enlist her own youngest daughter to help set the table, but afterwards was dealt the duty of washing over two dozen plates with only Dewey as her aid.

She didn't understand why the Conlon children failed to see it imperative in helping out as well. She didn't understand how they could take for granted how kindly others treated them in their time of need. The younger ones were rather grateful and appreciative; she wouldn't fail to acknowledge that. Sometimes she'd wander through the house simply to find relief in its silence during school time, and would find Neeko busily picking up the toys strewn across the floor of the den. And a few times she had espied Andy and Ruthie cleaning the windows when boredom had taken harbor in their minds.

She had mentioned this all to Jack a few times and always he had said the same things. _They're not use to the working life_, he'd argue in their defense. Or _I'm sure they'll come on their own eventually...maybe they're just a bit coy about helping out still_. It did nothing to alleviate her indignation when she saw Luke carrying buckets of pig feed to the sloughs by himself or Rhett rounding up stray cattle all on his lonesome. They were a mega family of eleven members now! There was no reason why household chores couldn't be completed two times faster, and she was vehement in letting the issue surface this day.

"First off, I'd like to start out by saying that the past few weeks, though hectic, have been enjoyable. I thought having five children was a full house, but I guess you can never have enough." The little ones seated on the floor of the den brought their fingers up to cover their giggles. Amy smiled at them warmly, and continued on with her statements. Jack, Dewey, and Spot were hanging on to her every word, watching the expression of their offspring eagerly. The teenagers lounged on the couches semi-interested, each to some extent retreating into their own thoughts.

Amy pointed to a small wooden sign hanging from a wall on the den. "Can anyone tell me what that says?"

"Oh, I can! I can, mommy!" Adelaide raised her hand excitedly and nearly leapt to her feet, so bursting with energy was she. Though only four, she recognized the letters of the alphabet and could even read short sentences so long as the words were somewhat simple. She beamed when her mother selected her to read it and raised her voice for all to hear. "Nothing in life is free."

"That's right," Amy continued. "Nothing in life _is_ free. This large ranch of ours didn't fall from the sky in front of us just like that. Though it was a blessing, we had to work to maintain it. We had to work to raise our animals, to feed them, to protect them when bad weather came. We have to work to keep it clean, to keep cowhands interested in laboring for us, and to remain as the top provider of eggs for our neighbors here in the country." She placed her hands on her hips and hoped they were beginning to understand exactly where she was leading with all this.

"And work isn't a one-person idea. It takes commitment, dedication, love for what you do, and working hands. A lot of working hands." She looked at Jack and smiled when he nodded encouragingly at her. They had talked about this all last night, and had finally decided it was something which couldn't wait to be brought up. "We, as your parents, have come to notice that some of you aren't contributing to the 'working hands' aspect of the deal. I understand that some of you might not be use to having so many chores, but sometimes in life, we have to make adjustments.

"In our house, we have several rules. For one thing, everyone pulls their own weight. That means you just don't dump a dirty plate in the sink after eating a snack. Save someone the trouble and wash it yourself. If the garments on the clotheslines are dry, take the initiative and grab a basket to take them down and fold them. I don't mind cooking dinner every night, but I shouldn't have to be the one peeling potatoes or ears of corn all the time. Some of you are old enough to pick up after yourselves...in fact, _all_ of you are old enough for that!"

She noticed their moods were changing, some toward guilt and others toward defense. She softened her voice in case she was coming off too scathing and proceeded. "Another matter that concerns us is conduct. Under this roof, we don't curse and we don't use foul language. We don't treat each other like enemies either. Even more important, we don't drink alcohol, smoke, or use other substances. Jack didn't tell you the story about my brother just for kicks; we seriously care about each of you and every individual here is precious to us. Why would you even want to throw all of that away for a reckless lifestyle?"

"I guess all I'm trying to say is this." She at last took a momentary pause during which she leaned against the mantelpiece of the fireplace and took the time to look at each child one by one for the ultimate time. "Life is what you make it, and despite what some may believe, not everything in it is free. You have to work hard if you want a luxurious living; it's not just handed over to you on a silver platter. Which is why everyone in this house needs to contribute their share of work and effort and time. We're one big family now, and we need to start acting like one."

Since Amy's passionate speech, the eleven children of the household were a bit more withdrawn and less likely to speak up in defiance as was their custom. For the most part, they held their tongues with the utmost respect and did as they were told, not matter how difficult it was at times to obey the parental units without argument. Naturally, these strongholds were bound to shatter. Luke and Ty, one sunny cloudless day when the whiff of apples was in the air and the wind whistling of adventure, were in the stable, tending to the untamed horse named Spaz their father had recently purchased from a breeder. It was habitually Rhett's responsibility to tend to the animals not yet broken, but boys would be boys and these two had long ago decided they'd have their fun.

Ty shook strands of dark brown hair from his eyes and grinned up at the wild Quarterhourse, who grunted and neighed and stomped its hooves vehemently. "I dare you to ride him," he said to his younger sibling, who very much resembled him. Ty had seen their father break horses in the circular rink sometimes, riding it in circles endlessly until the beast calmed its nerves and finally became domesticated. Rhett had even tamed a horse once; it didn't seem too drastic an ordeal. "Ride it from here to the trees down by the forest and back again. I dare you."

Luke piped up in his still high voice, "no way!" It was practically a golden rule in the Kelly household that no one...absolutely no one rode one of those horses just for racing high's or fun, especially one still unbroken. "Dad'll kill me! Besides, he said Spaz needs to calm down for a while before we can start training him. He'd throw me off as soon as I got on!"

"No he wouldn't! Just ride him without the saddle. You don't need stirrups; I'll just cup my hands and hoist you up. Or you can stand on the haystack inside of his stable and try to jump on." Ty nodded to affirm his points and then widened his eyes as if to prompt the opposing argument.

"Well then why don't you do it?"

The elder paused for a moment. "Because I thought I'd pass the fun to you!"

Luke narrowed his eyes at this suspiciously. Since when did his elder siblings pass the fun on to him? Sure Felicity looked out for him a lot, and usually let him have his way when the others were being bossy, but _Ty? _"I don't know. I don't want..." But before he could finish, they heard soft footsteps on the hay-covered flooring of the tenement and ducked behind a cast aside saddle and harness, fearing it was their father. The steps, however, fell lightly upon the ground and were anything but determined. Peeking around, they noted the visitor to be none other than Connor Conlon.

Ty heaved a huge sigh of relief and rose to his full height, dusting off the knees of his breeches. "Goodness, Connor! D'ya think you could knock or something next time?"

The Conlon boy shyly smiled and bit his bottom lip. He didn't know Ty and Luke were here; had he, he wouldn't have bothered coming. He simply had taken the detour to watch the animals as he liked to do. "Sorry," he muttered, kicking the floor and holding his hands behind his back.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Ty draped an arm around his younger brother's shoulders and was about to escort the boy from the stables to depart from Connor's company when a new plan dawned on him. "Hey Connor? You ever ride a horse before?"

Luke's eyes widened at the inquiry. If they weren't allowed to ride the horses, what made Ty think the Conlon boy would be granted the permission? He parted his lips to voice his opinions on the matter, but the elder clamped a hand over his mouth and proceeded with the mirth. "It's really fun, ya know. This new horse here my dad got, Spaz...he's really gentle. See how he's stomping on the ground? He's anxious to have someone ride him. Luke and I were going to do it ourselves, but since you're our guest and all..."

Connor blinked. "_Really?" _His heart nearly skipped a beat at having been given this opportunity. He'd never ridden a horse as Ty had asked, but he'd always wanted to. He took a step closer to the brothers and let his shy smile grow wider. "Are you sure it's okay, though? I wouldn't want to make your dad mad if I rode his horse."

"No worries," Ty replied casually. "He wouldn't mind at all. He lets us ride them all the time!" Luke wriggled under his brother hold, trying once more to speak up against this, but he was being held down quite tight, and after a while, he knew he'd only get animosity conveyed his way should Ty not have his fun. He wasn't sure, however, why his older brother was acting as so. Sure, the Conlon brigade had caused a chore chart to be created, for which everyone had to pitch in for everything...but still.

"Alright then, I'll take him out for a ride."

"Great. Now just climb onto those sugar cube buckets there and crawl onto the wall of the stable. Don't worry, they're pretty thick so you'll have a good perch. Then, without Spaz seeing you, just jump from there onto his back and hold onto his mane real tight like, and Luke and I will fling open the door in front of you, and Spaz will just dash out the barn, alright?"

Connor didn't even have time to bob his head in agreement. It all happened so fast. He did as he was told, but the moment his romp landed onto that horse's back, all hell broke loose. Spaz leapt onto his hind legs, brandishing his front hooves in the air before speeding forth, crashing into the door and busting its hinges. Trying desperately to rid himself of the Conlon boy, the horse arched its back and pranced to and fro, spinning in circles and slamming its back hooves into random objects. But Connor gripped the silken strands of its mane until his knuckles were white, and both boy and horse were putting up quite a fight.

Ty and Luke watched on, somewhat amused and completely horrified. From the moment Spaz had broken free from the stable by his own doing, they knew something grave was bound to happen. Ty snatched a rope hanging from a nearby nail, tied a lasso, and flew after the runaway beast, his feet pounding against the grasslands with fierce determination. He had to capture the animal, he had to make it ceased its parade before something not calculated happened to Connor.

All Luke knew to do was run to his parents, and this he did without missing a beat. Flailing his arms as if they were covered with bed bugs, he yelled at the top of his lungs and ran back inside his house, calling for his mother and father and a miraculous help. "Spaz is out of his stable!" he shouted like a madman, nearly out of breath. "And Connor's on him!"

Dewey and Spot weren't acquainted with the seriousness of the episode. They were under the impression their middle son was simply trotting in the backyard atop a gentle pony of sorts. But when Jack immediately leapt out of his seat, throwing the book from which he'd been reading to the floor, and when Amy gasped sharply with an "oh God!" and followed after, the Conlon couple felt as if a sledgehammer had been smashed against their hearts. "What's wrong!" Dewey demanded of the experienced ranchers. "Which horse is Spaz, what's wrong!?"

She didn't receive an answer; by the time they reached the back patio, she didn't need one. She saw the weight of the situation for herself. She saw her precious young son trying to manage himself on the back of an angry paranoid horse, steadily nearing the dangers of the bank and forest. Without thought, she started for him, determined to save him with the fabled superhero powers of a mother. Spot was one step ahead of her, wondering if they'd catch up with the horse...if this was the last time he'd see his boy alive.

Zooming past them came Jack riding one of the other stabled horses, this one a former competitor in the Sheepshead races. Legs flickering like matches swiped across sandpaper, the beast practically flew across the backyard as Jack whistled and demanded an increase in speed. "Ty, get out of the way!" The words boomed from his lips with a striking authority that could coat one's beating heart with frostbite. The boy spun around, face pale at the sight of his father, and instantly jumped from the horse's path, thrown to the ground onto his romp by the speed at which it ran. His lasso in his hand, he looked down at the rope and gulped down hard. This was going to be bad.

Jack clenched his jaw and through gritted teeth beckoned the horse to move faster. Connor and Spaz were nearly out of reach...just a few more yards. And then it happened. He would later attest to his lungs feeling as if they had collapsed when he witnessed the sight from so short a distance. It was indescribable the impact Connor's blood curdling scream had on him when he witnessed...from so very near and yet with no ability to help....when he witnessed Spaz close in around a tree haphazardly, performing a jump that catapulted Connor from the horse into the trunk of the tree. He couldn't describe the goose bumps racing across his arms when Connor tried to arise to flee for his life, but ended up being pressed up against the tree by the horse's belly, knocked to the ground when the animal roughly flung its large head into his chest, and trampled upon when Spaz saw need for payback and thus brought up its fore hooves and slammed them into Connor's collarbone.

"Connor!" Jack jumped from his ride, lightly whipped Spaz's hindquarters with a leather thong in his hand and sent the Quarterhourse reeling off, neighing madly. "Connor, can you hear me?" He dropped to his knees, his heart hammering loudly within his ribcage. Blood oozed from the boy's nostrils and mouth, a shade of pink and purple underlining his eyes. Jack took Connor into his arms ever so tenderly, knowing it was possible the boy's neck was fractured, or worst...that certain vertebra fragments of his spinal cord out of joint. He cradled the young Conlon as if it were his own son and whispered into his ear. "Connor? Connor, you have to do something for me, okay? Nod for me, if you can hear me. Connor?"

Dewey was hysterical by this point. Seeing Connor's body so lifeless and immobile was enough to make her pull her hair out strand by strand and fall to the ground in mad sobs. "Connor!" She, too, fell to her knees beside Jack and with face stained by tears, held out her arms to take her son. Jack willingly gave up guardianship for the time being, carefully transferring the boy over, still keeping in mind what could and could not be broken. "Oh God, my baby!" Dewey pressed her face against that of her son and couldn't stop the tears from flowing as she wiped away his blood with her trembling hands.

Spot tried to be the stronger parent, knowing no medication or cure or rehabilitation would come from shed tears. "How far away is the nearest clinic, Jack? Is it walking distance? Or do we have to take a wagon?" As brave as he tried to be, though, his fear was evident in his eyes, how he kept looking from Jack to Connor to Jack again, how he clenched and unclenched his fists, how he bit his lip so hard specks of blood dotted the pink flesh.

"Don't worry, Dewey, it'll be alright...everything will be alright." Amy fought back the pain in her throat which beckoned her to cry alongside her close friend. _Would _everything be alright? _Would _Connor come to? She didn't have the answers, but she prayed to God things wouldn't have to happen like this. "Oh Lord," she whispered, averting her eyes upward, "please...please help?" Dewey seemed to hear her plead to divinity, and cried all the more harder because of it.

"It's not anywhere close to here. We'd have to harness up some Clydesdales and take the wagon. It won't take too long; come on, you can help me and we'd cut the time in half." He was already hurrying back to the barn house. "After that, I'd say it's only a twenty minute ride, but they'll admit him as soon as we check in." He dragged Spot off with him, away from the sight of the unconscious Connor.

At the sound of the ear-piercing hysteria, the Conlon and Kelly brood filed out as if undergoing a fire drill. Felicity was the first on the patio, but the sight before her only baffled her. For one, why was Ty sitting on the grass a few yards away from the mothers...and why was Mrs. Conlon on her knees with Connor on her lap? Adelaide nudged past her, and Rhett right behind the girl, narrowing his eyes...which fell upon a loose Spaz moments later. Who let Spaz loose!?

Ethan passed a hand through his curly locks and knew something terrible had passed as soon as he saw his mother prostrated with Connor in her arms, fiercely crying, her shoulders heaving up and down purposefully. He'd seen her like that several times before; when his younger siblings would fall and scrape their knee, or when she was trying to comfort one of them from the horrors of an under-the-bed monster. "Aww crap..." J.P., usually apathetic, shoved everyone aside, parting the crowds for himself and then standing at the very edge of the patio, glowering at the sight before him. That glower, however, quickly progressed into a look of sheer worry. "Holy sh...!"

"Adelaide!" Rhett suddenly called out, more so to interrupt J.P.'s foul language than to get his sister's attention. "Weren't you going to show me...uhm, the dollhouse you and Ruthie had made out of mom's hat boxes?" He took his little sister's hand and started to lead her away, but the little girl was stubborn and wrenched away with a pout. "Why is Connor not moving, Rhett!"

Andy and Ruthie, almost simultaneously, ran off to join their mother, knocking into J.P. who watched them for a moment before hurrying off as well. Ethan took a moment to glance at Felicity, showing with one single look how desperate he was for condolence. His guess as to what had happened was as good as the next child's, but whatever it was, it didn't look too favorable for Connor's life. "Did it have to do with that horse?" he asked, nodding toward Spaz. "What's wrong with him, the horse? Did it have to do with him?"

Felicity had no answers to deal him, and thus she only stared back, wishing words of sympathy could come to her. But for some reason, looking into Ethan's crystalline blue eyes rendered her speechless. Back at Dewey's side, Andy, Ruthie, and J.P. gathered around their mother and the unconscious Connor, pressing their questions all at once.

"What happened, mommy!"

"Is Connor alright, what's wrong with him? Why isn't he breathing?"

"Mommy, don't cry!"

J.P. ushered his younger siblings away from his mother and kneeled down beside her in a rare show of compassion. He glanced down at his brother, so pale and stricken with pain, and moistened his lips as if to speak. But no words would come, for he hadn't a clue what he could possibly say to alleviate the hurt of the matter. And so, he did the only thing he could think of. He placed a hand on his mother's forearm, told her "he's going to come through", and then took Connor into his own arms with the tenderness of a parent, embracing the younger closely and rising to his feet to head toward the barn house where the wagon was already being set up.

Dewey remained on the ground, holding her face in her hands, completely struck with sorrow of immeasurable magnitude. Time seemed to stop everywhere for the young mother. Amy massaged her shoulders and cried along, knowing she'd feel just as lost had it been one of her own children.

"Do you need help?"

J.P. turned to find himself being followed by Rhett. He clenched his jaw. "No."

"Here's a wet cloth," the boy said, ignoring the other's reply. He placed the dampened material onto Connor's forehead. "You might want to wipe the dirt from his face and arms too, just so you don't get any germs on his scratches. The horses are almost harnessed up, so my dad'll get him to the clinic in no time."

J.P. looked at him warily, summing him up in one swift glare before he nodded in acceptance of the aid and softly uttered a "thank you."

It was the start of a vast uniting.

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